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 Solomon Islands and from Beijing.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
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 Silicon Teens to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Invisible. All the underground hits.
All Negative Approach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scan 7 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a harpsichord 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 clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet 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?
The Smoke,
The Buckinghams,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Ronnie Foster,
Radiohead,
Don Cherry,
The Skatalites,
DJ Style,
Sandy B,
Schoolly D,
Alton Ellis,
The Associates,
Sam Rivers,
Altered Images,
Gil Scott Heron,
Newcleus,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Pretty Things,
Faust,
LL Cool J,
Technova,
K-Klass,
Reagan Youth,
The Blackbyrds,
Surgeon,
Glambeats Corp.,
Pharoah Sanders,
Au Pairs,
Ituana,
Royal Trux,
Nik Kershaw,
Liliput,
Theoretical Girls,
Warsaw,
June Days,
Girls At Our Best!,
Skarface,
Sister Nancy,
T. Rex,
Lalo Schifrin,
Sex Pistols,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Sixth Finger,
Bush Tetras,
Oblivians,
Pussy Galore,
Gang Green,
Angry Samoans,
Cameo,
Rotary Connection,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Parry Music,
In Retrospect,
Ralphi Rosario,
Jacob Miller,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Half Japanese,
Shoche,
Moebius,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers.
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.