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 Tanzania and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Intrusion to the rap 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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark. All the underground hits.
All the Bar-Kays tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DJ Style record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a sitar 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 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mad Mike,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Royal Trux,
Motorama,
The Music Machine,
Terry Callier,
The Toasters,
Kevin Saunderson,
Unwound,
Young Marble Giants,
D'Angelo,
Television Personalities,
In Retrospect,
Urselle,
Public Image Ltd.,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Nick Fraelich,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Bill Wells,
Smog,
Essential Logic,
Deepchord,
Robert Wyatt,
Deakin,
Minny Pops,
Neil Young,
A Certain Ratio,
Davy DMX,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Monochrome Set,
Massinfluence,
The Gladiators,
The Real Kids,
Tommy Roe,
Jimmy McGriff,
Todd Rundgren,
Organ,
Laurel Aitken,
The Detroit Cobras,
Kool Moe Dee,
Cheater Slicks,
Jandek,
E-Dancer,
Toni Rubio,
The Red Krayola,
June Days,
Lucky Dragons,
Scrapy,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Chris Corsano,
Main Source,
Frankie Knuckles,
Khruangbin,
Gang Gang Dance,
Rapeman,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Blossom Toes,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Public Enemy,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Fuzztones,
Index,
The Techniques,
Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs.
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.