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 Andorra and from Columbus.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 Lou Reed 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 Juan Atkins to the funk 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 Prince Buster. All the underground hits.
All Soft Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Trumans Water record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeff Lynne 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?
Robert Hood,
the Germs,
Althea and Donna,
Q and Not U,
Lou Reed,
Pere Ubu,
Groovy Waters,
The Cowsills,
The Smoke,
Jandek,
These Immortal Souls,
Bang On A Can,
The Dirtbombs,
Gong,
Mo-Dettes,
New Age Steppers,
The Moody Blues,
Traffic Nightmare,
Depeche Mode,
Rosa Yemen,
Mr. Review,
The Young Rascals,
Panda Bear,
Lebanon Hanover,
Juan Atkins,
Flipper,
The Mojo Men,
Amazonics,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Slits,
Joy Division,
Barry Ungar,
Al Stewart,
Pagans,
Das Ding,
Heaven 17,
Excepter,
LL Cool J,
Peter and Kerry,
The Buckinghams,
Desert Stars,
Drive Like Jehu,
the Swans,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Slave,
MDC,
Ohio Players,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Big Daddy Kane,
Barrington Levy,
Sex Pistols,
Rites of Spring,
Brothers Johnson,
The Blues Magoos,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Sällskapet,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Star Department,
Dawn Penn,
Leonard Cohen,
FM Einheit,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Fortunes,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Chris Corsano, Chris Corsano, Chris Corsano, Chris Corsano.
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.