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 Ukraine and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the marimba 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 Crispian St. Peters to the punk 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 Joy Division. All the underground hits.
All The Slackers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quantec 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Popol Vuh record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sixth Finger,
Cheater Slicks,
La Düsseldorf,
Traffic Nightmare,
48th St. Collective,
Matthew Bourne,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Johnny Osbourne,
Pierre Henry,
Colin Newman,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Nico,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Pantytec,
Monks,
Delon & Dalcan,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Agitation Free,
U.S. Maple,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Kaleidoscope,
Subhumans,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Patti Smith,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Nation of Ulysses,
Section 25,
Andrew Hill,
Throbbing Gristle,
Scientists,
China Crisis,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Janne Schatter,
Banda Bassotti,
Dead Boys,
Jawbox,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Hoover,
Accadde A,
Steve Hackett,
Connie Case,
Reuben Wilson,
The Velvet Underground,
Freddie Wadling,
The Blackbyrds,
Al Stewart,
Avey Tare,
Donald Byrd,
the Soft Cell,
Loose Ends,
the Human League,
Sexual Harrassment,
Drexciya,
Suburban Knight,
The Blues Magoos,
Cybotron,
Fela Kuti,
The Residents,
Tropical Tobacco,
Wally Richardson,
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.