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 Sri Lanka and from Calgary.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the güiro 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 Gary Puckett & The Union Gap to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago. All the underground hits.
All Kerrie Biddell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arthur Verocai record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a rhodes and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T.S.O.L. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chris Corsano,
Bad Manners,
Rakim,
Youth Brigade,
Drexciya,
Graham Central Station,
Girls At Our Best!,
Donald Byrd,
Schoolly D,
Pussy Galore,
Slick Rick,
The Grass Roots,
Aaron Thompson,
Agitation Free,
Byron Stingily,
John Lydon,
Archie Shepp,
Susan Cadogan,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
ABBA,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Ultimate Spinach,
Suburban Knight,
The Cowsills,
Circle Jerks,
Whodini,
The Monochrome Set,
Heaven 17,
Unwound,
Minnie Riperton,
The Leaves,
Joe Finger,
The American Breed,
Absolute Body Control,
Lyres,
Organ,
Soft Cell,
Fear,
Harpers Bizarre,
Joy Division,
Gong,
Flash Fearless,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Porter Ricks,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Crash Course in Science,
Slave,
Deakin,
Marmalade,
The Pretty Things,
Ludus,
The Victims,
Niagra,
Japan,
Maurizio,
Fluxion,
The Fire Engines,
Gang Starr,
Fatback Band,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Second Layer, Second Layer, Second Layer, Second Layer.
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.