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 India and from Manila.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Nirvana to the grime 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 Crispy Ambulance. All the underground hits.
All Average White Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yellowson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a mellotron and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Chris Corsano record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Neon Judgement,
Country Teasers,
Robert Wyatt,
Ken Boothe,
Lungfish,
Clear Light,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Laurel Aitken,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Electric Prunes,
8 Eyed Spy,
Pylon,
Ice-T,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
T.S.O.L.,
Public Image Ltd.,
Sällskapet,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Fortunes,
Soft Machine,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Wake,
Procol Harum,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Tears for Fears,
Sandy B,
The Human League,
Bluetip,
The Electric Prunes,
Sugar Minott,
Gerry Rafferty,
Rhythm & Sound,
Vainqueur,
Rotary Connection,
The Leaves,
Simply Red,
Black Sheep,
Sixth Finger,
Harmonia,
Maurizio,
Barbara Tucker,
Yaz,
Franke,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Tommy Roe,
New Age Steppers,
Bush Tetras,
The Misunderstood,
The Dead C,
Crispy Ambulance,
the Germs,
The Count Five,
Prince Buster,
This Heat,
Niagra,
Rod Modell,
The Fugs,
Jeff Mills,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson.
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.