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 Rwanda and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Ultra Naté to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Andrew Hill. All the underground hits.
All Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Depeche Mode 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an oboe 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 an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Television Personalities,
Tears for Fears,
T.S.O.L.,
Jerry's Kids,
Donny Hathaway,
Fat Boys,
Rapeman,
Pharoah Sanders,
K-Klass,
Das Ding,
Stiv Bators,
Ice-T,
Cybotron,
48th St. Collective,
Bizarre Inc.,
Black Moon,
The Busters,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Vogues,
Kerri Chandler,
Gastr Del Sol,
Crispian St. Peters,
Livin' Joy,
Warren Ellis,
Heaven 17,
Gabor Szabo,
Wasted Youth,
Massinfluence,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Black Sheep,
Iggy Pop,
The Young Rascals,
The Gladiators,
The Kinks,
Fatback Band,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Dirtbombs,
Eurythmics,
Harry Pussy,
Crooked Eye,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Inner City,
Newcleus,
Black Bananas,
Fela Kuti,
Alison Limerick,
Tom Boy,
Man Eating Sloth,
Mo-Dettes,
Ohio Players,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Fluxion,
Soft Cell,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Nas,
Eric Copeland,
Electric Prunes,
Jawbox,
the Association,
X-101,
Deakin,
Darondo, Darondo, Darondo, Darondo.
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.