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 Lebanon and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Crooked Eye to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Dead C. All the underground hits.
All The Cramps tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lucky Dragons 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a marimba 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 spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rekid,
The Blackbyrds,
Jeru the Damaja,
Excepter,
Lyres,
Hasil Adkins,
Kaleidoscope,
The Leaves,
Silicon Teens,
Erasure,
Bang On A Can,
Fad Gadget,
Terrestrial Tones,
Ornette Coleman,
The Move,
Mad Mike,
Duran Duran,
The Modern Lovers,
FM Einheit,
Crispy Ambulance,
Andrew Hill,
Warsaw,
Pole,
Ken Boothe,
Circle Jerks,
Gang Starr,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Popol Vuh,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Sun City Girls,
The Flesh Eaters,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Max Romeo,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Leonard Cohen,
Mandrill,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Tropical Tobacco,
Colin Newman,
Radiohead,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Blues Magoos,
Symarip,
X-Ray Spex,
Lucky Dragons,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Bobby Womack,
The Busters,
Gil Scott Heron,
Bobby Sherman,
Sparks,
Adolescents,
Gang Gang Dance,
Rakim,
Average White Band,
Gabor Szabo,
MDC,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Anakelly,
Chrome,
New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers.
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.