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 Saudi Arabia and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Procol Harum to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Jeff Lynne. All the underground hits.
All Faust tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacques Brel 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ 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?
The American Breed,
Joyce Sims,
Dorothy Ashby,
DJ Sneak,
Alison Limerick,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
R.M.O.,
Ultravox,
Simply Red,
Rotary Connection,
MDC,
Buzzcocks,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Busters,
Excepter,
Patti Smith,
The Wake,
The Doors,
Arthur Verocai,
Von Mondo,
Yellowson,
Angry Samoans,
Letta Mbulu,
Sun Ra,
Theoretical Girls,
DJ Style,
Oneida,
The Trojans,
The Skatalites,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Mandrill,
Sound Behaviour,
The Gap Band,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Crime,
Half Japanese,
Electric Light Orchestra,
This Heat,
Prince Buster,
Al Stewart,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Ronnie Foster,
Skarface,
Newcleus,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Bush Tetras,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Pere Ubu,
Marcia Griffiths,
Can,
Subhumans,
Index,
Radiopuhelimet,
Livin' Joy,
The Birthday Party,
The Invisible,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Joey Negro,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Raincoats,
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.