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 Libya and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Angry Samoans to the techno 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 Sun Ra Arkestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lizzy Mercier Descloux record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an oboe and a 808 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 synthesizer and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pulsallama,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Pretty Things,
Fela Kuti,
Essential Logic,
Cybotron,
Pagans,
Desert Stars,
Bobby Sherman,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Gap Band,
The J.B.'s,
The Residents,
The Smiths,
Scion,
Pierre Henry,
Ornette Coleman,
Sexual Harrassment,
Cymande,
Hasil Adkins,
The Saints,
Aswad,
Crispian St. Peters,
Gil Scott Heron,
Skaos,
Crash Course in Science,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
the Slits,
Los Fastidios,
The Angels of Light,
Arthur Verocai,
Juan Atkins,
Wally Richardson,
The Neon Judgement,
Bobby Byrd,
T.S.O.L.,
Traffic Nightmare,
Drive Like Jehu,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Urselle,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Gong,
Throbbing Gristle,
Easy Going,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Jeff Mills,
Sam Rivers,
The Martian,
One Last Wish,
Ken Boothe,
The Blackbyrds,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Susan Cadogan,
Faust,
Slave,
Lalo Schifrin,
Matthew Bourne,
the Bar-Kays,
Trumans Water,
Patti Smith,
Basic Channel,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Alarm Clocks,
Robert Hood, Robert Hood, Robert Hood, Robert Hood.
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.