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 Benin and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Sunsets and Hearts 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 Dorothy Ashby. All the underground hits.
All B.T. Express tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sugar Minott record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 synthesizer and an organ 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 snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soft Machine,
Underground Resistance,
The Cure,
Maleditus Sound,
a-ha,
Donald Byrd,
Roy Ayers,
The Vogues,
A Certain Ratio,
The Evens,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Kurtis Blow,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Aural Exciters,
The Dead C,
Reuben Wilson,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Slits,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Fela Kuti,
Warsaw,
Yusef Lateef,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Real Kids,
Shoche,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Nik Kershaw,
The Gories,
X-Ray Spex,
Rekid,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Gang Starr,
Bob Dylan,
The Doobie Brothers,
Alice Coltrane,
The Toasters,
PIL,
Siglo XX,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Skatalites,
Cluster,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Angry Samoans,
Japan,
Khruangbin,
Kool Moe Dee,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Ultra Naté,
The Knickerbockers,
Gong,
The Flesh Eaters,
Little Man,
Suburban Knight,
The Buckinghams,
Warren Ellis,
The Dirtbombs,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Banda Bassotti,
James White and The Blacks,
Faraquet,
Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars.
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.