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 Guyana and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 James Chance & The Contortions to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Standells. All the underground hits.
All the Human League tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ajijia Myrayebe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron 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 808 and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eve St. Jones,
JFA,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Leaves,
Curtis Mayfield,
World's Most,
The Grass Roots,
Boz Scaggs,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Sandy B,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Bauhaus,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Quadrant,
Slick Rick,
Mr. Review,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Nirvana,
X-102,
Royal Trux,
Wire,
Au Pairs,
Matthew Halsall,
U.S. Maple,
Matthew Bourne,
Janne Schatter,
Tim Buckley,
The Velvet Underground,
Wings,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Joey Negro,
The Evens,
Black Moon,
Bob Dylan,
Jandek,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Residents,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The New Christs,
Magazine,
Heaven 17,
Cymande,
The Offenders,
The Five Americans,
Dual Sessions,
Graham Central Station,
Groovy Waters,
Amon Düül,
Leonard Cohen,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Tremeloes,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Sixth Finger,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Visage,
The Cramps,
The Trojans,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Camouflage,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
H. Thieme,
Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow.
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.