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 Kosovo and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the oboe 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 Lungfish 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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth. All the underground hits.
All Dorothy Ashby tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cameo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a spring reverb 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 spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord 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?
Soft Cell,
The Dirtbombs,
Arab on Radar,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Standells,
Avey Tare,
Crispy Ambulance,
Kurtis Blow,
Scan 7,
B.T. Express,
The Slits,
Yazoo,
Toni Rubio,
Japan,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Aloha Tigers,
Pharoah Sanders,
Dead Boys,
Lalo Schifrin,
Grey Daturas,
Alice Coltrane,
Infiniti,
Blossom Toes,
Soft Machine,
The Alarm Clocks,
Glenn Branca,
Monolake,
Alphaville,
The Misunderstood,
The Neon Judgement,
Joey Negro,
Eve St. Jones,
Jeru the Damaja,
Jacques Brel,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Velvet Underground,
Soul II Soul,
Sixth Finger,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Isaac Hayes,
Deadbeat,
Little Man,
Ituana,
Franke,
Oblivians,
Scrapy,
Con Funk Shun,
Howard Jones,
The Martian,
Ralphi Rosario,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Quadrant,
Josef K,
Brand Nubian,
Symarip,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Black Dice,
Popol Vuh,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Das Ding,
The Beau Brummels,
The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola.
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.