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 Tunisia and from Lagos.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Peanut Butter Conspiracy to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Erykah Badu. All the underground hits.
All Grauzone tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fort Wilson Riot record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 theremin and a harpsichord 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 oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joy Division,
John Holt,
The Evens,
Flamin' Groovies,
E-Dancer,
The Electric Prunes,
The Mummies,
The Litter,
Erykah Badu,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
A Certain Ratio,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
B.T. Express,
Ludus,
Livin' Joy,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
One Last Wish,
Saccharine Trust,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Toasters,
Hashim,
The Buckinghams,
Toni Rubio,
Tomorrow,
H. Thieme,
Curtis Mayfield,
David McCallum,
The Slackers,
Main Source,
Nik Kershaw,
Ronan,
Pussy Galore,
The Searchers,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Stooges,
Black Moon,
Severed Heads,
Robert Görl,
Visage,
Heaven 17,
Warren Ellis,
Y Pants,
Soul Sonic Force,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Nirvana,
Radiohead,
Angry Samoans,
The Doobie Brothers,
Gang Gang Dance,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Absolute Body Control,
The Trojans,
The Fuzztones,
Arcadia,
Alton Ellis,
Althea and Donna,
Brick,
Ossler,
Ice-T,
Depeche Mode,
June of 44, June of 44, June of 44, June of 44.
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.