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 Liechtenstein and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 Lyon and New York.
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 Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Ajijia Myrayebe to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 World's Most. All the underground hits.
All D'Angelo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Human League record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 clarinet 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 sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tres Demented,
The Smoke,
Crime,
The Litter,
Wasted Youth,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Sun Ra,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Albert Ayler,
Yellowson,
The Mummies,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Spoonie Gee,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Cosmic Jokers,
Toni Rubio,
Minutemen,
The Flesh Eaters,
Funky Four + One,
F. McDonald,
Infiniti,
Circle Jerks,
Minny Pops,
The Vogues,
Bauhaus,
Scientists,
Black Pus,
Deepchord,
One Last Wish,
The Modern Lovers,
CMW,
Lucky Dragons,
The Sonics,
Robert Görl,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Invisible,
Ice-T,
Josef K,
Arcadia,
Eddi Front,
Von Mondo,
James White and The Blacks,
Patti Smith,
Todd Terry,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Model 500,
Bootsy Collins,
8 Eyed Spy,
China Crisis,
Tom Boy,
Ronan,
Bush Tetras,
Gichy Dan,
Roxette,
Max Romeo,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls.
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.