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 Greece and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Eric Copeland to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Bush Tetras. All the underground hits.
All Alice Coltrane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Modern Lovers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a rhodes 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 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispian St. Peters,
Ituana,
Jacques Brel,
The Blackbyrds,
Malaria!,
Faraquet,
Flipper,
U.S. Maple,
Tommy Roe,
Cecil Taylor,
Joy Division,
Deadbeat,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Drexciya,
Leonard Cohen,
Boz Scaggs,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Jeff Lynne,
K-Klass,
Roy Ayers,
John Holt,
Von Mondo,
Anakelly,
F. McDonald,
ABC,
The Fortunes,
Bob Dylan,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Procol Harum,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
La Düsseldorf,
The Vogues,
Brass Construction,
Alison Limerick,
Janne Schatter,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Trumans Water,
Parry Music,
Black Flag,
Rakim,
Youth Brigade,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Josef K,
The Doors,
Mark Hollis,
Matthew Bourne,
Steve Hackett,
Jandek,
The Busters,
Altered Images,
Minny Pops,
Girls At Our Best!,
Joyce Sims,
Clear Light,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Inner City,
Dorothy Ashby,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Kool Moe Dee,
Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield.
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.