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 United States and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 DJ Style to the dance 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 Prince Buster. All the underground hits.
All Man Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eli Mardock record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a theremin 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 synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Electric Prunes,
Minny Pops,
Harmonia,
Lakeside,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Amazonics,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Sarah Menescal,
The Slackers,
Connie Case,
Black Flag,
Easy Going,
R.M.O.,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Interpol,
Reagan Youth,
a-ha,
The Black Dice,
The Kinks,
Scrapy,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Symarip,
Danielle Patucci,
The New Christs,
Cymande,
Radio Birdman,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Crooked Eye,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
James White and The Blacks,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Saints,
Fat Boys,
Das Ding,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Chris & Cosey,
Ten City,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Blackbyrds,
In Retrospect,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Mojo Men,
Traffic Nightmare,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Remains,
Tubeway Army,
Sällskapet,
Intrusion,
Marvin Gaye,
Panda Bear,
Eden Ahbez,
Anthony Braxton,
Kurtis Blow,
Tom Boy,
Rakim,
The Smoke,
KRS-One,
Saccharine Trust,
Rites of Spring,
Ronan, Ronan, Ronan, Ronan.
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.