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 Czech Republic and from Edmonton.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 The Sound to the grime 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 The New Christs. All the underground hits.
All Isaac Hayes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Adolescents record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Green record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David Bowie,
Althea and Donna,
Freddie Wadling,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
One Last Wish,
Ultravox,
Davy DMX,
Hot Snakes,
Nas,
Scion,
Easy Going,
Delta 5,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Sonny Sharrock,
Make Up,
Babytalk,
Moss Icon,
Amon Düül,
The Offenders,
Half Japanese,
The Misunderstood,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Traffic Nightmare,
Jeff Lynne,
Banda Bassotti,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Darondo,
Animal Collective,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Harry Pussy,
Ronnie Foster,
The Star Department,
The Seeds,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Crispy Ambulance,
Fat Boys,
Gang of Four,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Siglo XX,
Minutemen,
Suicide,
Simply Red,
Au Pairs,
Thee Headcoats,
Television,
Marmalade,
The Slits,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Grass Roots,
Johnny Clarke,
Warsaw,
Camouflage,
Idris Muhammad,
OOIOO,
Organ,
The Doobie Brothers,
Brick,
Judy Mowatt,
Jeff Mills,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Con Funk Shun,
Camberwell Now,
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.