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 Equatorial Guinea and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Marcia Griffiths to the techno 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 Make Up. All the underground hits.
All Circle Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faust record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 sitar 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 an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eddi Front,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Eric Copeland,
Sam Rivers,
Pussy Galore,
Tropical Tobacco,
Connie Case,
The Neon Judgement,
Peter & Gordon,
Black Pus,
Jacques Brel,
Marcia Griffiths,
David Axelrod,
Sandy B,
48th St. Collective,
Avey Tare,
Qualms,
Reuben Wilson,
The Names,
Minutemen,
Faust,
Boogie Down Productions,
Niagra,
Mary Jane Girls,
Bang On A Can,
Yaz,
The Index,
Yusef Lateef,
Parry Music,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Dave Clark Five,
Oneida,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
K-Klass,
Buzzcocks,
John Holt,
Bob Dylan,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Scan 7,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Vogues,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Inner City,
JFA,
ABC,
Rapeman,
R.M.O.,
Jeru the Damaja,
Wolf Eyes,
Funkadelic,
Khruangbin,
The Doobie Brothers,
Subhumans,
Rekid,
Soul Sonic Force,
Stetsasonic,
Rosa Yemen,
Maurizio,
Loose Ends,
The Busters,
Audionom,
The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible.
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.