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 Bahamas and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog to the funk 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 The Black Dice. All the underground hits.
All Adolescents tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gastr Del Sol 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer 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 arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barrington Levy,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
X-101,
The Motions,
The Martian,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Andrew Hill,
Johnny Osbourne,
Pet Shop Boys,
David McCallum,
Charles Mingus,
Dark Day,
the Bar-Kays,
Brand Nubian,
Au Pairs,
Kevin Saunderson,
Public Image Ltd.,
Visage,
PIL,
Maleditus Sound,
The Grass Roots,
Buzzcocks,
Graham Central Station,
Marmalade,
E-Dancer,
Minnie Riperton,
Bizarre Inc.,
Jeff Lynne,
The Velvet Underground,
Nik Kershaw,
Bootsy Collins,
Al Stewart,
Maurizio,
Nils Olav,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Dirtbombs,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Swans,
Sex Pistols,
Lungfish,
The Modern Lovers,
Guru Guru,
Babytalk,
Heaven 17,
Drexciya,
The Stooges,
Cal Tjader,
The Blackbyrds,
The Move,
Rufus Thomas,
Camberwell Now,
B.T. Express,
L. Decosne,
Traffic Nightmare,
Kurtis Blow,
Pharoah Sanders,
Stetsasonic,
Susan Cadogan,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Sarah Menescal,
The Flesh Eaters,
Robert Hood,
Erasure, Erasure, Erasure, Erasure.
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.