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 Burkina and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Sparks to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Men They Couldn't Hang. All the underground hits.
All Scientists tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ronan 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cal Tjader record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Starr,
Minnie Riperton,
Sonic Youth,
Wire,
Dark Day,
Masters at Work,
Black Flag,
Todd Rundgren,
Bronski Beat,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Eden Ahbez,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Model 500,
Slick Rick,
Anthony Braxton,
Duran Duran,
The Five Americans,
The Slits,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Busters,
Roxy Music,
Minor Threat,
Sight & Sound,
Yusef Lateef,
Marc Almond,
The Moody Blues,
Metal Thangz,
Ice-T,
The Happenings,
The Stooges,
Ituana,
Connie Case,
Make Up,
Fat Boys,
The Red Krayola,
Freddie Wadling,
Tears for Fears,
Eddi Front,
Ronan,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Electric Light Orchestra,
DJ Sneak,
Maurizio,
the Slits,
Piero Umiliani,
The Standells,
Howard Jones,
Thompson Twins,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Nils Olav,
Moss Icon,
The Gap Band,
Tommy Roe,
Nico,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Quantec,
Flamin' Groovies,
Slave,
Stiv Bators,
Ludus,
Crash Course in Science,
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.