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 Namibia and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the 808 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 Accadde A to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Terrestrial Tones. All the underground hits.
All The Barracudas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lindisfarne 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 '90s.
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 Gastr Del Sol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mummies,
Arthur Verocai,
Kool Moe Dee,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Jeru the Damaja,
Hot Snakes,
Ultra Naté,
The Saints,
Cal Tjader,
The Sound,
Electric Prunes,
Arcadia,
Hashim,
The Dave Clark Five,
L. Decosne,
Bronski Beat,
Agitation Free,
Glambeats Corp.,
Negative Approach,
The Standells,
Model 500,
Hardrive,
Rotary Connection,
The Beau Brummels,
Pylon,
Kurtis Blow,
Tropical Tobacco,
Underground Resistance,
Scratch Acid,
Frankie Knuckles,
Supertramp,
The Birthday Party,
Intrusion,
Ice-T,
Sight & Sound,
Mantronix,
The Gap Band,
David Bowie,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Stetsasonic,
Crooked Eye,
The Move,
T.S.O.L.,
The Leaves,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Q and Not U,
The Young Rascals,
Skriet,
Basic Channel,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Rhythm & Sound,
Sex Pistols,
The Fortunes,
Babytalk,
Colin Newman,
Tres Demented,
Can,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Fall,
Dead Boys,
The Evens,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Soft Machine,
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.