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 Zimbabwe and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Jerry Gold Smith to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Techniques. All the underground hits.
All Pierre Henry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tres Demented record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer 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 theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Trojans,
Flamin' Groovies,
Isaac Hayes,
Mary Jane Girls,
Quantec,
Ronan,
The Star Department,
Lucky Dragons,
Monks,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Knickerbockers,
The Cramps,
Derrick May,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Tubeway Army,
Can,
Electric Prunes,
Frankie Knuckles,
Rotary Connection,
T. Rex,
Judy Mowatt,
Mr. Review,
Arcadia,
the Soft Cell,
Minny Pops,
The Motions,
Model 500,
Interpol,
Tropical Tobacco,
Q and Not U,
The Saints,
Theoretical Girls,
10cc,
Charles Mingus,
Eric Dolphy,
Mars,
Avey Tare,
Grauzone,
the Bar-Kays,
Saccharine Trust,
Hoover,
Sun City Girls,
Camouflage,
Henry Cow,
Visage,
Terry Callier,
Lalann,
B.T. Express,
Lebanon Hanover,
Girls At Our Best!,
Tommy Roe,
Glambeats Corp.,
Sight & Sound,
The Zeros,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Sandy B,
Archie Shepp,
OOIOO,
Scott Walker,
Mo-Dettes,
Ornette Coleman,
Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne.
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.