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 Belgium and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Jakarta.
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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Robert Wyatt to the rock 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 Sex Pistols. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & Metallica tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Electric Prunes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 an oboe and a harpsichord 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 sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Shuggie Otis,
Gang Green,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Lungfish,
Swell Maps,
Kas Product,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Todd Rundgren,
Essential Logic,
Tom Boy,
Marmalade,
The Dave Clark Five,
Rufus Thomas,
Dead Boys,
Marine Girls,
Theoretical Girls,
Fat Boys,
The Kinks,
Livin' Joy,
These Immortal Souls,
Derrick May,
Ultimate Spinach,
Half Japanese,
The Smiths,
Cluster,
Archie Shepp,
New Age Steppers,
Bob Dylan,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Cymande,
Lee Hazlewood,
X-102,
Subhumans,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
H. Thieme,
The Black Dice,
Dark Day,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Goldenarms,
Charles Mingus,
Iggy Pop,
Trumans Water,
Royal Trux,
Drive Like Jehu,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Rod Modell,
Drexciya,
Eric Dolphy,
Unwound,
Vladislav Delay,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Rakim,
Mary Jane Girls,
Excepter,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Last Poets,
Alice Coltrane,
Whodini,
Man Eating Sloth,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Fire Engines,
Alton Ellis, Alton Ellis, Alton Ellis, Alton Ellis.
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.