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 Portugal and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 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 John Holt to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Adolescents. All the underground hits.
All John Coltrane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pet Shop Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a rhodes 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 chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moody Blues,
Hashim,
Black Moon,
Jeff Mills,
Man Parrish,
Andrew Hill,
Dorothy Ashby,
Main Source,
Henry Cow,
The Flesh Eaters,
the Bar-Kays,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Fugs,
Erasure,
Swell Maps,
Nils Olav,
Jesper Dahlback,
Franke,
Matthew Bourne,
Pylon,
Tom Boy,
Saccharine Trust,
Radiohead,
Black Pus,
Shuggie Otis,
Blake Baxter,
Sex Pistols,
The Birthday Party,
Groovy Waters,
Buzzcocks,
One Last Wish,
Rekid,
Scan 7,
Faust,
The Names,
Fluxion,
Patti Smith,
Rufus Thomas,
Severed Heads,
LL Cool J,
Brothers Johnson,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Surgeon,
June of 44,
The Five Americans,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Moleskins,
Kenny Larkin,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Cameo,
Ten City,
Soft Cell,
Suicide,
Schoolly D,
Rotary Connection,
Bob Dylan,
MC5,
EPMD,
Bang On A Can,
Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya.
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.