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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Stockholm.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 synthesizer 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 Chris & Cosey 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 Slave. All the underground hits.
All Masters at Work tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris & Cosey record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Gang Dance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fugazi,
Y Pants,
Dorothy Ashby,
Joey Negro,
The Selecter,
Dennis Brown,
Livin' Joy,
The Black Dice,
The Red Krayola,
Chris & Cosey,
The Motions,
Alice Coltrane,
Kenny Larkin,
Minor Threat,
Monks,
The Cosmic Jokers,
the Slits,
Tom Boy,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Buzzcocks,
Aloha Tigers,
Mr. Review,
Fela Kuti,
Das Ding,
Rites of Spring,
Sister Nancy,
Robert Görl,
The Golliwogs,
Don Cherry,
Thompson Twins,
Pussy Galore,
The Evens,
Robert Wyatt,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Ponytail,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Aural Exciters,
Gastr Del Sol,
Erykah Badu,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Associates,
Minutemen,
Pere Ubu,
The Searchers,
Jeff Mills,
Gang Green,
Trumans Water,
John Holt,
Wasted Youth,
John Foxx,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Oblivians,
ABC,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
F. McDonald,
Sparks,
Model 500,
Quantec,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Siglo XX,
Max Romeo,
The Detroit Cobras,
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.