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 Poland and from Johannesburg.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Cymande to the electroclash 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 F. McDonald. All the underground hits.
All Rahsaan Roland Kirk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Victims 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a spring reverb 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 snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Shadows of Knight,
Tears for Fears,
DJ Style,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
New Order,
The Beau Brummels,
Bad Manners,
the Fania All-Stars,
E-Dancer,
Flipper,
Dead Boys,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
David McCallum,
Depeche Mode,
Theoretical Girls,
Nick Fraelich,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Livin' Joy,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Ornette Coleman,
Stereo Dub,
Scion,
John Coltrane,
Eurythmics,
Gregory Isaacs,
Zero Boys,
Tom Boy,
The Move,
Desert Stars,
B.T. Express,
Quantec,
Pylon,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Knickerbockers,
Schoolly D,
Mo-Dettes,
Sexual Harrassment,
the Bar-Kays,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Happenings,
Interpol,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Young Marble Giants,
The Seeds,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Maurizio,
D'Angelo,
John Foxx,
Yazoo,
Country Teasers,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Erykah Badu,
Laurel Aitken,
One Last Wish,
The Detroit Cobras,
Niagra,
The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy.
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.