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 Bolivia and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Sly & The Family Stone to the funk 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 Marcia Griffiths. All the underground hits.
All the Swans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Byron Stingily record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an arpeggiator 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 808 and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Darondo,
The Red Krayola,
Gastr Del Sol,
Crispy Ambulance,
Barry Ungar,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
DNA,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Prince Buster,
Peter & Gordon,
World's Most,
The Music Machine,
The Gories,
Silicon Teens,
Q and Not U,
Carl Craig,
The Tremeloes,
Reagan Youth,
Electric Prunes,
Roy Ayers,
The Blues Magoos,
Lou Reed,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Underground Resistance,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Josef K,
The Raincoats,
The Seeds,
Young Marble Giants,
Shoche,
Excepter,
Lou Christie,
Magma,
Angry Samoans,
Altered Images,
Kas Product,
The Fall,
Amon Düül,
Peter and Kerry,
Gang Starr,
The Slits,
Eli Mardock,
Matthew Halsall,
Mars,
Goldenarms,
The Remains,
Sight & Sound,
Chris Corsano,
Ponytail,
Amon Düül II,
The Birthday Party,
Deadbeat,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Gregory Isaacs,
Banda Bassotti,
Ituana,
Jeff Mills,
The Names,
Nirvana,
Man Parrish,
Model 500,
The Monks, The Monks, The Monks, The Monks.
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.