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 Nigeria and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Royal Family And The Poor to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Anakelly. All the underground hits.
All The Blackbyrds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moss Icon 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a 808 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 guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
H. Thieme,
Kenny Larkin,
Deakin,
Sight & Sound,
Bad Manners,
Soft Machine,
Chrome,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Silicon Teens,
MDC,
The Martian,
The Residents,
Dennis Brown,
Jeru the Damaja,
Bush Tetras,
Royal Trux,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Black Pus,
Oneida,
Barry Ungar,
Fugazi,
The Alarm Clocks,
Lou Reed,
EPMD,
Aswad,
June Days,
Soft Cell,
Wally Richardson,
DJ Style,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Pantaleimon,
Cameo,
ABC,
Fad Gadget,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Skarface,
the Fania All-Stars,
Girls At Our Best!,
Alison Limerick,
Pet Shop Boys,
Severed Heads,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Sound,
the Bar-Kays,
Lee Hazlewood,
David Axelrod,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Audionom,
Bobby Womack,
D'Angelo,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Fortunes,
Blake Baxter,
Bobby Byrd,
Hasil Adkins,
Gang Gang Dance,
K-Klass,
Khruangbin,
The Motions,
Pantytec,
John Coltrane,
R.M.O.,
A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls.
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.