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 Latvia and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the 808 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 The Doobie Brothers to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Selecter. All the underground hits.
All The Gun Club tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers Ubiquity record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an oboe 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 harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Yaz,
Bauhaus,
Tears for Fears,
Maurizio,
Soul Sonic Force,
Judy Mowatt,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Barry Ungar,
Von Mondo,
Godley & Creme,
48th St. Collective,
Junior Murvin,
Malaria!,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Blossom Toes,
Technova,
Rod Modell,
Tres Demented,
Porter Ricks,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Joe Finger,
Marc Almond,
Stockholm Monsters,
Outsiders,
Saccharine Trust,
The Slackers,
The Litter,
Livin' Joy,
Unwound,
10cc,
FM Einheit,
Lindisfarne,
Fatback Band,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Grass Roots,
The Monks,
Mission of Burma,
Darondo,
The Smiths,
T.S.O.L.,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Mummies,
Bobby Byrd,
Grauzone,
Gregory Isaacs,
Monolake,
Dave Gahan,
Q and Not U,
Altered Images,
Eve St. Jones,
Neu!,
Peter and Kerry,
The Pop Group,
Brick,
Dead Boys,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Cure,
The Happenings,
Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin.
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.