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 Tajikistan and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Jakarta.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Pulsallama to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Ajijia Myrayebe. All the underground hits.
All Con Funk Shun tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lower 48 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a mellotron 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 spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
MDC,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Man Parrish,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Procol Harum,
One Last Wish,
E-Dancer,
The Offenders,
Cybotron,
Alison Limerick,
The Doors,
Piero Umiliani,
48th St. Collective,
Dennis Brown,
Skarface,
DJ Style,
The Grass Roots,
Jeru the Damaja,
Jesper Dahlback,
Flipper,
Malaria!,
Harry Pussy,
Make Up,
Eden Ahbez,
Brand Nubian,
Jeff Lynne,
Bobby Sherman,
Basic Channel,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Gang Starr,
Hardrive,
Althea and Donna,
The Blues Magoos,
The Smiths,
T. Rex,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Public Image Ltd.,
Au Pairs,
a-ha,
Dual Sessions,
Bluetip,
The Dave Clark Five,
Matthew Bourne,
Kas Product,
Dark Day,
Sister Nancy,
The Fortunes,
Jandek,
Pantaleimon,
Angry Samoans,
Excepter,
Gerry Rafferty,
Amon Düül II,
The Move,
Surgeon,
Depeche Mode,
James White and The Blacks,
Oblivians,
Radiopuhelimet,
Chrome,
Rapeman,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur.
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.