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 Afghanistan and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 Woodstock and Milan.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 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 Pulsallama to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Moody Blues. All the underground hits.
All Kurtis Blow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glambeats Corp. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a marimba 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?
The Gladiators,
Animal Collective,
Pantytec,
The Shadows of Knight,
Kool Moe Dee,
Basic Channel,
Heaven 17,
F. McDonald,
Godley & Creme,
The Fire Engines,
The Cramps,
June Days,
Spandau Ballet,
Steve Hackett,
Crooked Eye,
Rhythm & Sound,
Second Layer,
Mr. Review,
Sun Ra,
Girls At Our Best!,
Alton Ellis,
Bootsy Collins,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Happenings,
Max Romeo,
Wally Richardson,
Josef K,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Electric Prunes,
Barry Ungar,
LL Cool J,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Ralphi Rosario,
Glambeats Corp.,
Magazine,
The Durutti Column,
ABC,
the Association,
Warren Ellis,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Inner City,
MDC,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Crispian St. Peters,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Bronski Beat,
Piero Umiliani,
Parry Music,
The Black Dice,
Moss Icon,
This Heat,
James White and The Blacks,
The Dave Clark Five,
Agent Orange,
Bob Dylan,
Wolf Eyes,
Bill Near,
Jeru the Damaja,
Ultimate Spinach,
June of 44,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry.
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.