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 Mexico and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Shadows of Knight to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Nico. All the underground hits.
All Simply Red tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacob Miller 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a sitar 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 snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deakin,
E-Dancer,
Mary Jane Girls,
Toni Rubio,
Pagans,
Kenny Larkin,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Swell Maps,
Scan 7,
The Motions,
T. Rex,
JFA,
Magma,
Main Source,
Nation of Ulysses,
Al Stewart,
New Order,
Grey Daturas,
Frankie Knuckles,
Lyres,
Q and Not U,
Jeff Mills,
Joe Smooth,
Bobby Byrd,
Girls At Our Best!,
Amazonics,
Spandau Ballet,
Pulsallama,
Tubeway Army,
Pantaleimon,
The United States of America,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Victims,
Sun Ra,
Cluster,
The Offenders,
Tom Boy,
the Swans,
Clear Light,
Radiopuhelimet,
Camberwell Now,
Bang On A Can,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Dirtbombs,
Dark Day,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Panda Bear,
Boogie Down Productions,
Porter Ricks,
AZ,
Franke,
Royal Trux,
Yazoo,
Kevin Saunderson,
Pussy Galore,
Mad Mike,
Wasted Youth,
The Fuzztones,
Dawn Penn,
In Retrospect,
ABC, ABC, ABC, ABC.
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.