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 Oman and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu to the dance 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 The Detroit Cobras. All the underground hits.
All Average White Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Bar-Kays record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 linndrum and a rhodes 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 marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Angels of Light,
The American Breed,
K-Klass,
The Residents,
Nation of Ulysses,
Khruangbin,
John Lydon,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Alarm Clocks,
Yellowson,
Blossom Toes,
Derrick May,
Negative Approach,
the Bar-Kays,
Brick,
Tubeway Army,
48th St. Collective,
Minor Threat,
The Doobie Brothers,
R.M.O.,
Faust,
Ralphi Rosario,
Dennis Brown,
Audionom,
Monolake,
Supertramp,
Piero Umiliani,
Soul Sonic Force,
the Fania All-Stars,
Don Cherry,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
New Order,
Deadbeat,
Rufus Thomas,
Cluster,
Pulsallama,
Fela Kuti,
Agitation Free,
These Immortal Souls,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Tommy Roe,
Roxette,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Velvet Underground,
Tim Buckley,
Japan,
The Saints,
Howard Jones,
Country Teasers,
Monks,
The Neon Judgement,
Fugazi,
Moby Grape,
Fad Gadget,
Jawbox,
Kayak,
Ponytail,
Alphaville,
the Human League,
The Beau Brummels,
The Dead C,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Isaac Hayes,
Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish.
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.