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 Tunisia and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 Portland and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Marc Almond 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 Yazoo. All the underground hits.
All The Angels of Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Altered Images 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pantaleimon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Prince Buster,
Hardrive,
the Normal,
Sound Behaviour,
Magazine,
Wally Richardson,
Crime,
Gerry Rafferty,
Slick Rick,
Rapeman,
The Trojans,
Anakelly,
Erasure,
Harmonia,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Radiopuhelimet,
Accadde A,
Bang On A Can,
The Fuzztones,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Slackers,
Lightning Bolt,
Darondo,
Dorothy Ashby,
Michelle Simonal,
Althea and Donna,
Q65,
Thompson Twins,
Charles Mingus,
The Birthday Party,
Warren Ellis,
Sandy B,
Carl Craig,
F. McDonald,
New York Dolls,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Fall,
Sam Rivers,
Aaron Thompson,
Flipper,
Peter and Kerry,
Bluetip,
Robert Hood,
Nation of Ulysses,
Bizarre Inc.,
Groovy Waters,
Sonic Youth,
Radiohead,
John Cale,
Cluster,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Monks,
The Last Poets,
Jeff Mills,
Joy Division,
The Searchers,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Techniques,
Harpers Bizarre,
Mars,
Matthew Bourne,
8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy.
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.