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 Honduras and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Accra.
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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Aloha Tigers to the funk 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 Fort Wilson Riot. All the underground hits.
All The Raincoats tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Royal Trux record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro 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 theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
These Immortal Souls,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Porter Ricks,
Don Cherry,
Minnie Riperton,
A Certain Ratio,
Moss Icon,
the Swans,
Todd Rundgren,
Terry Callier,
Monks,
Y Pants,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
DNA,
Michelle Simonal,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Colin Newman,
Lou Reed,
Stockholm Monsters,
Lalo Schifrin,
Eric B and Rakim,
Ronnie Foster,
Gerry Rafferty,
Sarah Menescal,
Albert Ayler,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Dawn Penn,
Surgeon,
Man Parrish,
Johnny Osbourne,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Avey Tare,
The Buckinghams,
Girls At Our Best!,
Iggy Pop,
Second Layer,
Quantec,
Isaac Hayes,
Con Funk Shun,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Marine Girls,
Morten Harket,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Fifty Foot Hose,
DJ Sneak,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Althea and Donna,
H. Thieme,
OOIOO,
The Cure,
Soft Cell,
Tropical Tobacco,
Grauzone,
Bauhaus,
The Velvet Underground,
Howard Jones,
The Cramps,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Little Man,
Wally Richardson,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Lucky Dragons,
Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U.
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.