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 Italy and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Kerri Chandler to the crunk 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 The Detroit Cobras. All the underground hits.
All Spandau Ballet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magma record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a rhodes 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 snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soft Cell,
The Fortunes,
Crispy Ambulance,
Bang On A Can,
Surgeon,
Juan Atkins,
Bill Near,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Television Personalities,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Black Dice,
JFA,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Grass Roots,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
the Human League,
Marine Girls,
Dennis Brown,
Quando Quango,
Anthony Braxton,
Duran Duran,
X-102,
The Trojans,
Skarface,
Rod Modell,
The Monks,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Bobby Sherman,
Robert Wyatt,
The Move,
Colin Newman,
Roger Hodgson,
Nico,
Tom Boy,
The Buckinghams,
Alphaville,
Accadde A,
Rakim,
Big Daddy Kane,
Gong,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Eddi Front,
Basic Channel,
Yaz,
Faust,
The Tremeloes,
Kerri Chandler,
CMW,
Pagans,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Lou Christie,
Yazoo,
David Bowie,
Matthew Halsall,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Junior Murvin,
D'Angelo,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
the Soft Cell,
Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco.
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.