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 Kazakhstan and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Cabaret Voltaire to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Masters at Work. All the underground hits.
All The Toasters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boz Scaggs 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chris Corsano,
The Dirtbombs,
Monks,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Joy Division,
Peter & Gordon,
Thee Headcoats,
Das Ding,
Spandau Ballet,
Mission of Burma,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Pussy Galore,
The Remains,
DJ Sneak,
Kerrie Biddell,
MC5,
Eric B and Rakim,
Angry Samoans,
Jacques Brel,
Subhumans,
Deepchord,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
David McCallum,
Idris Muhammad,
The Slackers,
Lower 48,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
X-Ray Spex,
Roxette,
Make Up,
Urselle,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Boz Scaggs,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Gastr Del Sol,
DNA,
The Young Rascals,
Scan 7,
Pulsallama,
Graham Central Station,
The Blues Magoos,
Babytalk,
Eric Copeland,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Oblivians,
The Wake,
Au Pairs,
Sun Ra,
Donny Hathaway,
Ultra Naté,
Panda Bear,
Rakim,
Terrestrial Tones,
Boredoms,
Agitation Free,
OOIOO,
Flipper,
L. Decosne,
The Fuzztones,
Cluster,
The Mojo Men,
Tubeway Army,
Magazine, Magazine, Magazine, Magazine.
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.