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 India and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the rhodes 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 The Walker Brothers to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 U.S. Maple. All the underground hits.
All John Cale tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hashim 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Franke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chris Corsano,
June of 44,
Suicide,
Thompson Twins,
Minor Threat,
Moebius,
Max Romeo,
Alton Ellis,
The Wake,
Rod Modell,
James White and The Blacks,
The Cramps,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Invisible,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
KRS-One,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Circle Jerks,
Bush Tetras,
Monolake,
The Slits,
Black Bananas,
Quadrant,
Second Layer,
The Beau Brummels,
Inner City,
Dual Sessions,
Silicon Teens,
X-101,
Harmonia,
June Days,
Bang On A Can,
Cheater Slicks,
The Last Poets,
Quando Quango,
Gichy Dan,
Eric B and Rakim,
Faust,
Amon Düül,
Siglo XX,
The Doors,
Pet Shop Boys,
Supertramp,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Crispy Ambulance,
Boredoms,
Royal Trux,
JFA,
D'Angelo,
kango's stein massive,
The Cowsills,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Yusef Lateef,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Q65,
Black Sheep,
The Sound,
Joensuu 1685,
the Association,
Lou Reed,
The Names, The Names, The Names, The Names.
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.