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 Qatar and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the guitar 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 Hot Snakes to the techno 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 Lyres. All the underground hits.
All Marine Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ash Ra Tempel record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an organ 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 organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sly & The Family Stone,
Moebius,
U.S. Maple,
UT,
The Pretty Things,
Pere Ubu,
Echospace,
David Bowie,
the Fania All-Stars,
Siglo XX,
Reagan Youth,
Rufus Thomas,
Man Parrish,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Sight & Sound,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Robert Görl,
Deakin,
Scratch Acid,
Nas,
Wally Richardson,
Eve St. Jones,
Con Funk Shun,
DNA,
Clear Light,
Ultra Naté,
Can,
Silicon Teens,
The Standells,
Pharoah Sanders,
Harmonia,
Kas Product,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Music Machine,
Urselle,
Suicide,
Banda Bassotti,
Gang of Four,
Ralphi Rosario,
Quadrant,
D'Angelo,
The Trojans,
World's Most,
Mr. Review,
Loose Ends,
The Birthday Party,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Fugazi,
Los Fastidios,
Livin' Joy,
Tom Boy,
Vladislav Delay,
Bauhaus,
Harry Pussy,
Leonard Cohen,
June of 44,
Bluetip,
Rekid,
Kurtis Blow,
Jandek,
Roger Hodgson,
Eli Mardock,
The Skatalites,
Sexual Harrassment,
ABBA, ABBA, ABBA, ABBA.
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.