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 Algeria and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 rhodes 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 Ultramagnetic MC's to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Procol Harum. All the underground hits.
All Boredoms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tom Boy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
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 arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glenn Branca,
Danielle Patucci,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Los Fastidios,
Bobby Sherman,
Tim Buckley,
Magma,
The Barracudas,
The Residents,
Howard Jones,
Kerri Chandler,
Loose Ends,
Kas Product,
John Lydon,
Alton Ellis,
Banda Bassotti,
Lou Reed,
U.S. Maple,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Mad Mike,
Erykah Badu,
Television Personalities,
The Slits,
David Axelrod,
Pere Ubu,
Black Pus,
Slick Rick,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Deadbeat,
Delta 5,
Sight & Sound,
Gerry Rafferty,
Amazonics,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Curtis Mayfield,
CMW,
The Associates,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Eurythmics,
Rufus Thomas,
Royal Trux,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
James Chance & The Contortions,
China Crisis,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Pop Group,
The Remains,
The Five Americans,
Sixth Finger,
Rakim,
Essential Logic,
Ponytail,
Faraquet,
Minny Pops,
Scratch Acid,
Ronan,
Rites of Spring,
Cluster,
The Sonics,
The Count Five,
Tomorrow,
The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels.
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.