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 Cape Verde and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Excepter to the funk 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 Andrew Hill. All the underground hits.
All Gang Green tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Average White Band 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soft Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chris Corsano,
Stereo Dub,
Hardrive,
Basic Channel,
Ten City,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
DJ Style,
The Invisible,
the Sonics,
Wally Richardson,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
James White and The Blacks,
Jeff Mills,
Mantronix,
Kevin Saunderson,
Can,
Supertramp,
Alison Limerick,
Derrick Morgan,
The Red Krayola,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Shadows of Knight,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Suicide,
Visage,
The Raincoats,
Bob Dylan,
Subhumans,
Byron Stingily,
The Buckinghams,
The Wake,
Bobby Womack,
Mr. Review,
The Move,
Bush Tetras,
Cameo,
Eddi Front,
This Heat,
The Vogues,
Yaz,
Ituana,
The Martian,
Charles Mingus,
Nico,
Crispian St. Peters,
LL Cool J,
Barry Ungar,
Gong,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Gabor Szabo,
Jesper Dahlback,
Prince Buster,
Pet Shop Boys,
Gang of Four,
the Human League,
Absolute Body Control,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Negative Approach,
Pere Ubu,
The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy.
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.