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 China and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Dorothy Ashby to the techno 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 Johnny Clarke. All the underground hits.
All Sällskapet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Remains record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 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 The Cure record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fugazi,
Infiniti,
Yazoo,
The Monochrome Set,
Youth Brigade,
The Busters,
Drexciya,
Soft Cell,
David Axelrod,
Intrusion,
The J.B.'s,
Bad Manners,
The Count Five,
The Gap Band,
Lungfish,
Minnie Riperton,
Bob Dylan,
Dorothy Ashby,
Funkadelic,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Brand Nubian,
The Smiths,
Depeche Mode,
Jacob Miller,
Byron Stingily,
Tears for Fears,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Music Machine,
Rod Modell,
Prince Buster,
Tubeway Army,
Piero Umiliani,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sam Rivers,
Brothers Johnson,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Slick Rick,
Siglo XX,
The Residents,
Schoolly D,
Lakeside,
Mars,
Livin' Joy,
ABBA,
Donny Hathaway,
The Fire Engines,
Trumans Water,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Human League,
Soulsonic Force,
Swans,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Qualms,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Brick,
Anthony Braxton,
Stockholm Monsters,
DJ Style,
The Five Americans,
Ultimate Spinach,
Traffic Nightmare,
Connie Case,
Chris Corsano, Chris Corsano, Chris Corsano, Chris Corsano.
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.