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 Korea South and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in 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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Banda Bassotti to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Siglo XX. All the underground hits.
All Deadbeat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angry Samoans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brand Nubian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chris Corsano,
Guru Guru,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Boz Scaggs,
Gichy Dan,
Frankie Knuckles,
Public Image Ltd.,
Brand Nubian,
Pagans,
The Electric Prunes,
Infiniti,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Dark Day,
Oneida,
The Red Krayola,
World's Most,
Mantronix,
Soft Cell,
The New Christs,
FM Einheit,
Darondo,
The Litter,
Franke,
Slave,
Zapp,
Eddi Front,
Pharoah Sanders,
Radiohead,
Blossom Toes,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Dave Clark Five,
Babytalk,
Newcleus,
Kenny Larkin,
Lou Christie,
Banda Bassotti,
the Slits,
Con Funk Shun,
The Sound,
The Standells,
Moss Icon,
A Certain Ratio,
Faraquet,
cv313,
Kayak,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Durutti Column,
Delon & Dalcan,
Joy Division,
Trumans Water,
Eden Ahbez,
Yellowson,
Ornette Coleman,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Icehouse,
Reuben Wilson,
Ultimate Spinach,
Tim Buckley,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Black Dice,
Black Bananas,
Rosa Yemen,
Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy.
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.