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 Ukraine and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 mellotron 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 Charles Mingus to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Freddie Wadling. All the underground hits.
All Unrelated Segments tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liliput record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an organ 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 linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Pus,
The Dead C,
the Slits,
Jacques Brel,
Bad Manners,
The Buckinghams,
Motorama,
Loose Ends,
Robert Hood,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Soft Cell,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Qualms,
Goldenarms,
Joe Finger,
Nils Olav,
Flash Fearless,
Bizarre Inc.,
Bush Tetras,
Joe Smooth,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Danielle Patucci,
Gang Green,
Sister Nancy,
Matthew Halsall,
Alphaville,
The Smiths,
Gang Starr,
Neu!,
Glenn Branca,
the Fania All-Stars,
the Human League,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Blues Magoos,
Jerry's Kids,
The Five Americans,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Detroit Cobras,
Organ,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Bronski Beat,
JFA,
The Barracudas,
Depeche Mode,
Terry Callier,
Funkadelic,
Zero Boys,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Royal Trux,
Shuggie Otis,
Excepter,
Altered Images,
Lower 48,
Jacob Miller,
X-101,
Gang Gang Dance,
Pet Shop Boys,
Anthony Braxton,
Eric B and Rakim,
Drexciya,
Freddie Wadling,
The Litter,
H. Thieme,
Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker.
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.