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 San Marino and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Radiohead to the crunk 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 Von Mondo. All the underground hits.
All Dark Day tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lizzy Mercier Descloux record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 synthesizer and an arpeggiator 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 mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Neu!,
Little Man,
Index,
Robert Hood,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Cramps,
Nas,
Cecil Taylor,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Sugar Minott,
Thee Headcoats,
Minutemen,
Bob Dylan,
Cymande,
John Cale,
The Gun Club,
Banda Bassotti,
Erasure,
Byron Stingily,
Andrew Hill,
Black Sheep,
The Electric Prunes,
New Age Steppers,
Gil Scott Heron,
Quando Quango,
Fear,
Dorothy Ashby,
Hoover,
Eric Copeland,
Au Pairs,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Rekid,
Mission of Burma,
Unwound,
Fluxion,
John Holt,
Bad Manners,
Ten City,
Visage,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Josef K,
Blake Baxter,
Wings,
Roxette,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Barrington Levy,
Kayak,
Make Up,
Shuggie Otis,
Sam Rivers,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Iggy Pop,
The Monks,
Altered Images,
Bobby Byrd,
Dave Gahan,
Lindisfarne,
Stiv Bators,
The Index,
Mandrill,
Barclay James Harvest,
the Sonics,
Deakin,
Soul II Soul, Soul II Soul, Soul II Soul, Soul II Soul.
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.