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 Mongolia and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 Paris and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Monolake to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Blues Magoos. All the underground hits.
All Carl Craig tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rosa Yemen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a rhodes 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 chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fire Engines,
Jacob Miller,
Minnie Riperton,
Leonard Cohen,
Dennis Brown,
Quantec,
ABBA,
Aloha Tigers,
David Bowie,
The Searchers,
Theoretical Girls,
Joe Smooth,
The Names,
Boredoms,
John Foxx,
Sam Rivers,
DJ Sneak,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Roy Ayers,
Ornette Coleman,
Lungfish,
Maurizio,
The Invisible,
The Fall,
Quando Quango,
Underground Resistance,
Jeff Lynne,
Massinfluence,
KRS-One,
Deadbeat,
48th St. Collective,
Das Ding,
Charles Mingus,
The Skatalites,
The Fugs,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Index,
Qualms,
The Slackers,
Big Daddy Kane,
Andrew Hill,
Ultimate Spinach,
Ultravox,
The Seeds,
Avey Tare,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Zero Boys,
The Toasters,
Pharoah Sanders,
Fort Wilson Riot,
the Sonics,
Unwound,
Pierre Henry,
Camberwell Now,
8 Eyed Spy,
Cameo,
Technova,
Scott Walker,
Grauzone,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Jacques Brel,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Brick, Brick, Brick, Brick.
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.