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 Senegal and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in 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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Khruangbin to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Sad Lovers and Giants. All the underground hits.
All Cabaret Voltaire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Trumans Water record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a spring reverb 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 rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Supertramp,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Grandmaster Flash,
New Order,
Scratch Acid,
Crispian St. Peters,
Agent Orange,
Rakim,
Lee Hazlewood,
Colin Newman,
The Beau Brummels,
This Heat,
Scion,
Spandau Ballet,
The Modern Lovers,
Black Moon,
Judy Mowatt,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Shadows of Knight,
Prince Buster,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Lightning Bolt,
EPMD,
Clear Light,
Sex Pistols,
cv313,
Easy Going,
The New Christs,
Rekid,
Lakeside,
Harry Pussy,
Mo-Dettes,
Vainqueur,
Agitation Free,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Leonard Cohen,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Dave Clark Five,
Sällskapet,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Interpol,
Soft Cell,
Trumans Water,
Kenny Larkin,
Todd Terry,
Nick Fraelich,
Sonny Sharrock,
Fort Wilson Riot,
L. Decosne,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Eve St. Jones,
Joey Negro,
Underground Resistance,
Max Romeo,
Barbara Tucker,
Fugazi,
Rod Modell,
The Moody Blues,
Anthony Braxton,
Fat Boys,
Black Flag,
The Standells,
The Fall, The Fall, The Fall, The Fall.
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.