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 Colombia and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the theremin 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 X-101 to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Unwound. All the underground hits.
All Kevin Saunderson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Underground Resistance 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin 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 marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Underground Resistance,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Lower 48,
The Slits,
Marine Girls,
Joe Smooth,
Echospace,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Gang Gang Dance,
Gang Starr,
Tim Buckley,
Mad Mike,
Dark Day,
Gang Green,
Sister Nancy,
The Golliwogs,
In Retrospect,
China Crisis,
R.M.O.,
The Music Machine,
The Smiths,
Urselle,
Arthur Verocai,
Zero Boys,
Tres Demented,
The Fall,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Five Americans,
Aloha Tigers,
The Sound,
Charles Mingus,
Mary Jane Girls,
Simply Red,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Goldenarms,
Harmonia,
Boredoms,
Lou Christie,
The Gap Band,
Whodini,
Easy Going,
Slave,
The Standells,
Quando Quango,
10cc,
Stereo Dub,
Mars,
D'Angelo,
Lightning Bolt,
Eric Dolphy,
Con Funk Shun,
Public Enemy,
Mr. Review,
These Immortal Souls,
the Slits,
Pole,
Cheater Slicks,
Tomorrow,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Peter & Gordon,
Loose Ends,
Josef K,
Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop.
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.