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 Burundi and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 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 Whodini to the rock 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 Altered Images. All the underground hits.
All Alphaville tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Flesh Eaters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin 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 guitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sällskapet,
Robert Wyatt,
Amon Düül II,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Bad Manners,
Terrestrial Tones,
Maurizio,
The American Breed,
Wally Richardson,
Arab on Radar,
Gerry Rafferty,
Soft Cell,
Ultra Naté,
Cheater Slicks,
Excepter,
Barbara Tucker,
Nico,
B.T. Express,
Scan 7,
Organ,
Slick Rick,
Cymande,
Thee Headcoats,
Flipper,
The Raincoats,
Sexual Harrassment,
Hashim,
The Smoke,
Lalann,
Minnie Riperton,
Ken Boothe,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Duran Duran,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
cv313,
Soul II Soul,
The Detroit Cobras,
Pulsallama,
Pussy Galore,
Whodini,
Jesper Dahlback,
Index,
Schoolly D,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Robert Hood,
Cecil Taylor,
The Golliwogs,
Wings,
Johnny Clarke,
Thompson Twins,
Judy Mowatt,
Big Daddy Kane,
Rapeman,
New York Dolls,
the Association,
Chris Corsano,
The Alarm Clocks,
Skaos,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Public Enemy, Public Enemy, Public Enemy, Public Enemy.
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.