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 El Salvador and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 New York and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Whodini 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 Lindisfarne. All the underground hits.
All Donald Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lafayette Afro Rock Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a synthesizer 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 marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Zero Boys,
The Fugs,
The Monochrome Set,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Joyce Sims,
Slick Rick,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Chris & Cosey,
The Durutti Column,
One Last Wish,
World's Most,
Roxy Music,
Yellowson,
The Fire Engines,
Talk Talk,
Altered Images,
Avey Tare,
Dead Boys,
Byron Stingily,
Brass Construction,
Warsaw,
The Leaves,
Harry Pussy,
Gerry Rafferty,
Delta 5,
Country Teasers,
Eddi Front,
The Modern Lovers,
Symarip,
The Gladiators,
Malaria!,
Agent Orange,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Can,
Unwound,
Underground Resistance,
Terry Callier,
Quando Quango,
Cybotron,
Newcleus,
The Happenings,
Camberwell Now,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Bang On A Can,
Radiopuhelimet,
K-Klass,
Interpol,
Ultravox,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Connie Case,
Depeche Mode,
Pulsallama,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Ultimate Spinach,
Jawbox,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Tomorrow,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Mummies,
the Association,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy.
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.