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 Cuba and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Angels of Light to the rap 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 Stereo Dub. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlbäck tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Larry & the Blue Notes 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 synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sandy B record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pulsallama,
The Smoke,
Symarip,
Black Flag,
Lee Hazlewood,
Skriet,
Todd Rundgren,
Clear Light,
The Five Americans,
K-Klass,
Charles Mingus,
The Mojo Men,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Bobby Byrd,
Soft Cell,
Ten City,
Main Source,
This Heat,
Gregory Isaacs,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Carl Craig,
CMW,
Wolf Eyes,
JFA,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Dead C,
Robert Hood,
Throbbing Gristle,
Fugazi,
Marvin Gaye,
Tomorrow,
Susan Cadogan,
Wally Richardson,
The Pop Group,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Grey Daturas,
The Stooges,
The Star Department,
Patti Smith,
Black Sheep,
The Moleskins,
Ornette Coleman,
Second Layer,
Unwound,
Spandau Ballet,
Banda Bassotti,
Simply Red,
Michelle Simonal,
Quantec,
The Seeds,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Groovy Waters,
Average White Band,
Kevin Saunderson,
John Coltrane,
Sister Nancy,
Rekid,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Music Machine,
Amazonics,
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.