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 Malaysia and from Tehran.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the clarinet 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 punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Dorothy Ashby. All the underground hits.
All Eve St. Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Electric Prunes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 an arpeggiator and a snare 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 a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
These Immortal Souls,
Ash Ra Tempel,
CMW,
FM Einheit,
Flash Fearless,
Donald Byrd,
The Gun Club,
Sugar Minott,
Darondo,
Procol Harum,
Bluetip,
Shuggie Otis,
Desert Stars,
Mantronix,
Zero Boys,
DJ Style,
Brick,
Wasted Youth,
Prince Buster,
Yellowson,
Crime,
Japan,
Sonny Sharrock,
the Swans,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Robert Görl,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Popol Vuh,
Nirvana,
The American Breed,
The Offenders,
Avey Tare,
Kayak,
Aloha Tigers,
Sight & Sound,
Dennis Brown,
Bush Tetras,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Section 25,
Mary Jane Girls,
Marshall Jefferson,
Siglo XX,
Crooked Eye,
Pussy Galore,
Chris Corsano,
Smog,
The Names,
Sex Pistols,
Rhythm & Sound,
Fela Kuti,
PIL,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Rites of Spring,
Crispian St. Peters,
Bronski Beat,
Flamin' Groovies,
the Germs,
The Blues Magoos,
K-Klass,
The Martian,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Index, Index, Index, Index.
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.