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 San Marino and from Cairo.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Reagan Youth to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Procol Harum. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Sherman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sparks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a marimba 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?
Stockholm Monsters,
The Fall,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Cal Tjader,
Don Cherry,
Monks,
Bill Wells,
Johnny Clarke,
Radiopuhelimet,
Guru Guru,
Symarip,
Shoche,
Fela Kuti,
Mad Mike,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Robert Hood,
The Busters,
Mantronix,
The Music Machine,
the Bar-Kays,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Agent Orange,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Underground Resistance,
Blossom Toes,
Quando Quango,
Intrusion,
Kurtis Blow,
MDC,
Rod Modell,
Franke,
Joe Finger,
Cecil Taylor,
Terrestrial Tones,
Funky Four + One,
8 Eyed Spy,
the Normal,
Wasted Youth,
Radio Birdman,
Eurythmics,
Amon Düül,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
X-101,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
World's Most,
The Offenders,
Cheater Slicks,
Black Sheep,
Brass Construction,
Main Source,
Lyres,
Half Japanese,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Toni Rubio,
The Fire Engines,
The New Christs,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Funkadelic,
Vainqueur,
The Motions,
The Moody Blues,
La Düsseldorf,
The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column.
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.