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 Slovakia and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Ultravox 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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All Public Image Ltd. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cosmic Jokers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a theremin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sugar Minott record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chris Corsano,
Dorothy Ashby,
Pole,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Pussy Galore,
FM Einheit,
Eve St. Jones,
Ultravox,
Sam Rivers,
Kayak,
The Modern Lovers,
Fluxion,
Bill Wells,
Grandmaster Flash,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Tubeway Army,
Ornette Coleman,
Moebius,
The Tremeloes,
Jeru the Damaja,
Thee Headcoats,
Pagans,
Traffic Nightmare,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Ponytail,
Soft Cell,
Loose Ends,
F. McDonald,
Little Man,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Lou Christie,
K-Klass,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Sun Ra,
Ultra Naté,
Mad Mike,
Masters at Work,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Doors,
Faust,
Skriet,
Crooked Eye,
Tropical Tobacco,
Nik Kershaw,
The Velvet Underground,
Erasure,
Ken Boothe,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Mandrill,
JFA,
Gerry Rafferty,
Ralphi Rosario,
Easy Going,
Amazonics,
Sound Behaviour,
Audionom,
The Angels of Light,
The Busters,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
T.S.O.L.,
Inner City,
Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas.
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.