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 Nigeria and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Pantaleimon to the rap 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 Bootsy Collins. All the underground hits.
All Procol Harum tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Idris Muhammad record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 an arpeggiator 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 linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Sonics,
Steve Hackett,
Underground Resistance,
Heaven 17,
Dark Day,
Delta 5,
Neil Young,
Tears for Fears,
The Star Department,
The Happenings,
The Searchers,
Camberwell Now,
Das Ding,
Archie Shepp,
Procol Harum,
Slick Rick,
Mission of Burma,
Chrome,
Funky Four + One,
A Certain Ratio,
Danielle Patucci,
L. Decosne,
Magma,
Camouflage,
Erasure,
Charles Mingus,
Skaos,
Japan,
Joey Negro,
Todd Rundgren,
Infiniti,
The Doors,
Echospace,
Terrestrial Tones,
Ralphi Rosario,
Hoover,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Peter and Kerry,
The Tremeloes,
10cc,
Newcleus,
Jeru the Damaja,
Loose Ends,
Graham Central Station,
The Black Dice,
The Detroit Cobras,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Sugar Minott,
Siglo XX,
Scan 7,
The Dead C,
Mars,
Slave,
Section 25,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Dave Gahan,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Motorama,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Stetsasonic,
Gichy Dan,
Vladislav Delay,
Lee Hazlewood,
Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins.
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.