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 Chile and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra to the grime 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 Robert Wyatt. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Halsall 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 rock 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 spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Chris Corsano record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lyres,
Gerry Rafferty,
The J.B.'s,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Rufus Thomas,
The Electric Prunes,
Royal Trux,
Gil Scott Heron,
Urselle,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Bob Dylan,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
the Human League,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Al Stewart,
Sparks,
Bad Manners,
Jesper Dahlback,
Archie Shepp,
Underground Resistance,
a-ha,
Fugazi,
World's Most,
Deadbeat,
Roy Ayers,
Ultra Naté,
The Offenders,
Ludus,
The Associates,
Yusef Lateef,
The Cowsills,
Eden Ahbez,
The Toasters,
Ossler,
The Slits,
Stiv Bators,
Kerri Chandler,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Zeros,
Matthew Bourne,
Tim Buckley,
The Gap Band,
Nas,
Symarip,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Arcadia,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Masters at Work,
Crash Course in Science,
Jeff Mills,
Massinfluence,
Ken Boothe,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Harmonia,
Moby Grape,
Andrew Hill,
Ice-T,
Make Up,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles.
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.