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 Sierra Leone and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Deakin to the rap 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 Bootsy Collins. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & John Cale tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gladiators record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 808 and a sitar 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 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?
Black Pus,
Jacques Brel,
Scott Walker,
Sonic Youth,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Jeru the Damaja,
Kenny Larkin,
Cymande,
Archie Shepp,
The Barracudas,
Junior Murvin,
The Blackbyrds,
Black Bananas,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Max Romeo,
Dorothy Ashby,
Robert Hood,
Arthur Verocai,
Fear,
the Germs,
Duran Duran,
Robert Görl,
Byron Stingily,
Arab on Radar,
Warsaw,
Terry Callier,
Michelle Simonal,
Soft Machine,
Underground Resistance,
Newcleus,
Colin Newman,
Yellowson,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Index,
Fluxion,
Ralphi Rosario,
Howard Jones,
John Holt,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Cluster,
Gil Scott Heron,
Cal Tjader,
Fela Kuti,
Gregory Isaacs,
Todd Terry,
JFA,
Gerry Rafferty,
Brand Nubian,
Susan Cadogan,
Infiniti,
Panda Bear,
Livin' Joy,
The Dirtbombs,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Grauzone,
Throbbing Gristle,
Dead Boys,
The Detroit Cobras,
Traffic Nightmare,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Moleskins, The Moleskins, The Moleskins, The Moleskins.
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.