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 Italy and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Fela Kuti to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Infiniti. All the underground hits.
All The Knickerbockers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brand Nubian record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a guitar 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 güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Isaac Hayes,
Faust,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Alison Limerick,
Ken Boothe,
Connie Case,
Eric B and Rakim,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Letta Mbulu,
B.T. Express,
Jeru the Damaja,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Human League,
Glenn Branca,
Eurythmics,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Arthur Verocai,
Crash Course in Science,
Blossom Toes,
The Buckinghams,
The Real Kids,
Chrome,
X-Ray Spex,
Oblivians,
Icehouse,
The Moody Blues,
The Busters,
Subhumans,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Albert Ayler,
Talk Talk,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Cal Tjader,
R.M.O.,
Adolescents,
The Black Dice,
Pet Shop Boys,
Excepter,
Joyce Sims,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Fad Gadget,
Darondo,
The Sound,
Technova,
The Kinks,
Robert Görl,
Black Flag,
The Grass Roots,
Flamin' Groovies,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Qualms,
Stockholm Monsters,
London Community Gospel Choir,
T. Rex,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Yellowson,
Matthew Bourne,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Mandrill,
A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio.
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.