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 Thailand and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Bobbi Humphrey to the grunge 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 Bang On A Can. All the underground hits.
All The Invisible tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Germs 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 808 and an arpeggiator 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 clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Victims,
Symarip,
the Human League,
The Fire Engines,
Rakim,
Nas,
Wally Richardson,
Big Daddy Kane,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Deadbeat,
Kayak,
H. Thieme,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Happenings,
Tom Boy,
Hot Snakes,
Newcleus,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Sarah Menescal,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Peter & Gordon,
48th St. Collective,
Suburban Knight,
Ponytail,
Robert Görl,
Camberwell Now,
The Cramps,
Lucky Dragons,
Colin Newman,
Andrew Hill,
Subhumans,
Eric B and Rakim,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Toasters,
Pet Shop Boys,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Q65,
Rosa Yemen,
Alice Coltrane,
Bob Dylan,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Ultimate Spinach,
Harpers Bizarre,
Mars,
Alison Limerick,
Grandmaster Flash,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Funky Four + One,
a-ha,
Pantaleimon,
Dark Day,
The Martian,
Gang Green,
Nirvana,
A Certain Ratio,
U.S. Maple,
Eli Mardock,
Susan Cadogan,
The Dirtbombs,
Rhythm & Sound,
Prince Buster, Prince Buster, Prince Buster, Prince Buster.
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.