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 Bhutan and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the sitar 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 Derrick May to the funk 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 Tom Boy. All the underground hits.
All Eurythmics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pylon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cal Tjader record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Toni Rubio,
Parry Music,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Camberwell Now,
Throbbing Gristle,
Pet Shop Boys,
Erykah Badu,
Jawbox,
Deadbeat,
Jimmy McGriff,
Drive Like Jehu,
48th St. Collective,
Pharoah Sanders,
Duran Duran,
Matthew Halsall,
Lebanon Hanover,
Royal Trux,
Deepchord,
In Retrospect,
Rufus Thomas,
The Remains,
Index,
Kas Product,
Nirvana,
KRS-One,
The Slackers,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Searchers,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Real Kids,
kango's stein massive,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Todd Rundgren,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Blake Baxter,
Swans,
Lucky Dragons,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Laurel Aitken,
Tommy Roe,
The Monks,
New Order,
Mantronix,
Pole,
Funkadelic,
Angry Samoans,
Iggy Pop,
Joyce Sims,
Jeff Mills,
The Gladiators,
Rod Modell,
Make Up,
Henry Cow,
Freddie Wadling,
Bootsy Collins,
Graham Central Station,
Carl Craig,
Peter & Gordon,
The Dave Clark Five,
Nils Olav,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Harry Pussy,
Chris Corsano, Chris Corsano, Chris Corsano, Chris Corsano.
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.