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 Micronesia and from Cairo.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Stockholm.
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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Nick Fraelich to the crunk 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 Kool Moe Dee. All the underground hits.
All Eric Copeland tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Flesh Eaters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator 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 güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lyres,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
CMW,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Cheater Slicks,
Deakin,
Kerri Chandler,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
the Association,
Audionom,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Cecil Taylor,
Howard Jones,
Ludus,
Ronnie Foster,
Gang of Four,
Franke,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Bush Tetras,
Popol Vuh,
Carl Craig,
Easy Going,
The Residents,
Kas Product,
Ossler,
Joy Division,
Michelle Simonal,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Rosa Yemen,
Lakeside,
The Trojans,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Essential Logic,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Unrelated Segments,
Black Bananas,
E-Dancer,
Fat Boys,
Faraquet,
Nik Kershaw,
Man Eating Sloth,
June of 44,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Bizarre Inc.,
AZ,
Steve Hackett,
Jandek,
Groovy Waters,
Barclay James Harvest,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Rotary Connection,
The Selecter,
Reagan Youth,
Public Enemy,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Soulsonic Force,
These Immortal Souls,
Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees.
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.