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 Cameroon and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Bobby Hutcherson to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Standells. All the underground hits.
All Anthony Braxton tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Connie Case record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 marimba and an oboe 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 theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Gun Club,
U.S. Maple,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Lindisfarne,
Unwound,
Pharoah Sanders,
The New Christs,
Talk Talk,
Pierre Henry,
Aaron Thompson,
Robert Wyatt,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Gang Starr,
Amon Düül,
Technova,
Adolescents,
This Heat,
Slave,
The Misunderstood,
In Retrospect,
UT,
The United States of America,
Roger Hodgson,
The Blues Magoos,
Pulsallama,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Kaleidoscope,
Boogie Down Productions,
Barbara Tucker,
The Remains,
Oblivians,
Theoretical Girls,
Johnny Osbourne,
Pantytec,
Peter and Kerry,
The Zeros,
Stetsasonic,
Blancmange,
Yusef Lateef,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Sandy B,
Section 25,
Bush Tetras,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Red Krayola,
Sight & Sound,
The Durutti Column,
The Grass Roots,
a-ha,
the Swans,
Robert Görl,
Infiniti,
Silicon Teens,
Alphaville,
China Crisis,
The Sisters of Mercy,
the Association,
Buzzcocks,
Oneida,
Flash Fearless, Flash Fearless, Flash Fearless, Flash Fearless.
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.