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 South Africa and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Connie Case to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Royal Family And The Poor. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott Heron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cymande record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Avey Tare record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chris Corsano,
The Neon Judgement,
Electric Prunes,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Maurizio,
Quantec,
Tres Demented,
Spandau Ballet,
The Cramps,
Silicon Teens,
Desert Stars,
Roxy Music,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Subhumans,
Duran Duran,
Robert Wyatt,
Josef K,
Grey Daturas,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
a-ha,
The Skatalites,
The Leaves,
the Association,
the Fania All-Stars,
Dennis Brown,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Names,
Masters at Work,
Gil Scott Heron,
Boz Scaggs,
Grandmaster Flash,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Visage,
The Birthday Party,
F. McDonald,
Monolake,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Fad Gadget,
Minutemen,
The Fire Engines,
Mandrill,
The Count Five,
David Bowie,
Ornette Coleman,
Soft Machine,
Mr. Review,
Quando Quango,
Dawn Penn,
Accadde A,
Kerri Chandler,
Livin' Joy,
Faraquet,
Pantytec,
Aural Exciters,
The Flesh Eaters,
Zero Boys,
It's A Beautiful Day,
KRS-One,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Yusef Lateef,
Wally Richardson,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers.
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.