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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Jesper Dahlback to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Cowsills. All the underground hits.
All The Shadows of Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rod Modell 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar 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 synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T.S.O.L.,
Newcleus,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Evens,
The Angels of Light,
Lungfish,
Public Image Ltd.,
Black Moon,
Matthew Bourne,
Dark Day,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Jerry's Kids,
Kevin Saunderson,
Marshall Jefferson,
Jeru the Damaja,
Fela Kuti,
The Slits,
D'Angelo,
Erasure,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The New Christs,
Robert Görl,
K-Klass,
Pole,
Main Source,
Spoonie Gee,
Black Bananas,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Searchers,
Marmalade,
Public Enemy,
Camouflage,
Procol Harum,
Bobby Byrd,
The Fortunes,
The Walker Brothers,
Fatback Band,
the Normal,
Alphaville,
The Selecter,
The Five Americans,
Tubeway Army,
Urselle,
Grey Daturas,
Ken Boothe,
Flamin' Groovies,
MDC,
The Smoke,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Remains,
The American Breed,
ABBA,
The Flesh Eaters,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Suicide,
New Order,
Television Personalities,
Quando Quango,
Franke,
Aloha Tigers, Aloha Tigers, Aloha Tigers, Aloha Tigers.
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.