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 New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Blancmange to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Joe Finger. All the underground hits.
All Mary Jane Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Colin Newman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a guitar and a clarinet 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 linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Los Fastidios,
Procol Harum,
Crispy Ambulance,
Half Japanese,
Subhumans,
Ituana,
Black Bananas,
Cal Tjader,
The Skatalites,
The Standells,
The Blues Magoos,
Excepter,
Kenny Larkin,
Talk Talk,
Essential Logic,
Heaven 17,
Robert Görl,
John Foxx,
Don Cherry,
Absolute Body Control,
Kerri Chandler,
Tears for Fears,
A Certain Ratio,
the Soft Cell,
Man Eating Sloth,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Jeff Mills,
Grey Daturas,
Erasure,
The Durutti Column,
Brick,
Lungfish,
The Zeros,
Agent Orange,
Darondo,
Niagra,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
ABC,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Kurtis Blow,
David Bowie,
Schoolly D,
Banda Bassotti,
Mandrill,
B.T. Express,
Trumans Water,
The Martian,
Faust,
Drexciya,
Crash Course in Science,
Can,
One Last Wish,
Slick Rick,
the Sonics,
Kool Moe Dee,
Qualms,
Unwound,
Judy Mowatt,
Mo-Dettes,
Oneida,
E-Dancer,
Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys.
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.