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 Brunei and from Tehran.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Sonny Sharrock to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Slits. All the underground hits.
All Eric Dolphy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a theremin 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 rhodes and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Traffic Nightmare,
Yellowson,
Slick Rick,
Model 500,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Litter,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Bad Manners,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Kool Moe Dee,
U.S. Maple,
Con Funk Shun,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Last Poets,
Alphaville,
Intrusion,
Stiv Bators,
Echospace,
Sex Pistols,
The Zeros,
Carl Craig,
Funkadelic,
10cc,
Joe Finger,
Wasted Youth,
Eric Copeland,
Bauhaus,
Maleditus Sound,
Freddie Wadling,
The Raincoats,
Suburban Knight,
Heaven 17,
Leonard Cohen,
Black Moon,
Camouflage,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Ultravox,
Lyres,
Monolake,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Pussy Galore,
Albert Ayler,
The Misunderstood,
Arab on Radar,
Scion,
Faust,
Swans,
Hardrive,
The Red Krayola,
The Grass Roots,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Trojans,
Tears for Fears,
The Motions,
The Tremeloes,
Nils Olav,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Jerry's Kids,
Aural Exciters,
The Kinks,
8 Eyed Spy,
Tropical Tobacco,
Neil Young,
Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily.
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.