Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from St Kitts & Nevis and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Gastr Del Sol to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Public Image Ltd.. All the underground hits.
All The Alarm Clocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cosmic Jokers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pagans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Al Stewart,
Terrestrial Tones,
Nils Olav,
Khruangbin,
Model 500,
Little Man,
Lower 48,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Neu!,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Rakim,
Wire,
Circle Jerks,
Sixth Finger,
The Leaves,
Silicon Teens,
Todd Rundgren,
Alison Limerick,
The Moody Blues,
The Doors,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Unwound,
Black Sheep,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Searchers,
OOIOO,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Cowsills,
The Blues Magoos,
X-102,
Symarip,
The Seeds,
DJ Sneak,
Ornette Coleman,
Wally Richardson,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Frankie Knuckles,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Bobby Byrd,
Dead Boys,
Dawn Penn,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Judy Mowatt,
The Monochrome Set,
ABBA,
Panda Bear,
The Red Krayola,
Ohio Players,
Harry Pussy,
The Mummies,
Robert Görl,
Zero Boys,
Godley & Creme,
Mandrill,
Terry Callier,
Drive Like Jehu,
John Lydon,
Anthony Braxton,
New Age Steppers,
The Neon Judgement,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.