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 Chile and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Wire show in Watford.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the marimba 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 Angry Samoans to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 New York Dolls. All the underground hits.
All The Young Rascals tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Judy Mowatt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 guitar 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 rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Neon Judgement,
Juan Atkins,
Spoonie Gee,
Wally Richardson,
Hot Snakes,
The Blackbyrds,
Basic Channel,
Tears for Fears,
Joensuu 1685,
Deadbeat,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Brothers Johnson,
Fela Kuti,
T.S.O.L.,
R.M.O.,
A Certain Ratio,
the Fania All-Stars,
U.S. Maple,
Man Parrish,
Crispy Ambulance,
Barclay James Harvest,
Rapeman,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Blues Magoos,
Hardrive,
Fad Gadget,
Boredoms,
Eden Ahbez,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Lungfish,
The Black Dice,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Zero Boys,
John Cale,
Eric B and Rakim,
Popol Vuh,
Underground Resistance,
D'Angelo,
Big Daddy Kane,
Spandau Ballet,
Yusef Lateef,
The Five Americans,
Johnny Clarke,
Young Marble Giants,
The Dead C,
Q and Not U,
The Gladiators,
Dave Gahan,
The Zeros,
Sällskapet,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Kayak,
The Music Machine,
John Holt,
Barry Ungar,
the Human League,
Marc Almond,
B.T. Express,
Faust, Faust, Faust, Faust.
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.