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 Ethiopia and from Mumbai.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Bobby Womack to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Bang on a Can All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ornette Coleman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a sitar 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 organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eli Mardock,
Moss Icon,
Scrapy,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Toasters,
Jacob Miller,
Amazonics,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Moebius,
the Slits,
the Germs,
the Human League,
Average White Band,
Swans,
The Monks,
Mandrill,
Qualms,
Cecil Taylor,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Franke,
Bobby Byrd,
Thompson Twins,
Eric Copeland,
Procol Harum,
Erykah Badu,
Judy Mowatt,
Juan Atkins,
The Kinks,
Alison Limerick,
The J.B.'s,
Glambeats Corp.,
Reuben Wilson,
Japan,
Maurizio,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Gap Band,
Drexciya,
The Move,
The Walker Brothers,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Groovy Waters,
Infiniti,
Severed Heads,
The Fall,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Grass Roots,
Zero Boys,
JFA,
Porter Ricks,
Joey Negro,
Parry Music,
The Buckinghams,
Faraquet,
The Pretty Things,
Bad Manners,
Von Mondo,
Drive Like Jehu,
the Soft Cell,
John Foxx,
The Evens,
Neu!,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Zeros,
Cameo, Cameo, Cameo, Cameo.
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.