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 Solomon Islands and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Bob Dylan. All the underground hits.
All Symarip tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soulsonic Force record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a snare 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 mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gong,
Suburban Knight,
Severed Heads,
The Busters,
Bill Wells,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Jeru the Damaja,
PIL,
Johnny Clarke,
Rites of Spring,
The Doobie Brothers,
Susan Cadogan,
Godley & Creme,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Jandek,
The Grass Roots,
The Birthday Party,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Flamin' Groovies,
Pantytec,
DJ Sneak,
Harry Pussy,
Pulsallama,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Rufus Thomas,
the Germs,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Barracudas,
Idris Muhammad,
The Last Poets,
Funkadelic,
Amazonics,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Drive Like Jehu,
John Lydon,
Ituana,
Leonard Cohen,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
the Fania All-Stars,
Jimmy McGriff,
Scientists,
Robert Wyatt,
The Invisible,
Dead Boys,
The Divine Comedy,
David McCallum,
Sällskapet,
Donald Byrd,
Eden Ahbez,
The Seeds,
Tim Buckley,
In Retrospect,
The Leaves,
ABC,
Janne Schatter,
Gang of Four,
Theoretical Girls,
Lee Hazlewood,
Ice-T,
the Human League,
Jesper Dahlback,
Peter & Gordon,
Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre.
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.