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 Tonga and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Sight & Sound to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Ralphi Rosario. All the underground hits.
All The Gun Club tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Art Ensemble Of Chicago record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum 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 harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Talk Talk,
Mo-Dettes,
The Saints,
Steve Hackett,
The Pop Group,
These Immortal Souls,
Los Fastidios,
The Walker Brothers,
New Order,
Radiohead,
Fela Kuti,
kango's stein massive,
Cluster,
The Beau Brummels,
Vainqueur,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Janne Schatter,
Colin Newman,
Letta Mbulu,
Deadbeat,
Marmalade,
The Evens,
Aswad,
Arthur Verocai,
Thee Headcoats,
Gastr Del Sol,
Maleditus Sound,
Bill Wells,
Smog,
The Birthday Party,
Anakelly,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
AZ,
Von Mondo,
The Smiths,
The Gun Club,
Saccharine Trust,
Organ,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Television Personalities,
Ultravox,
Rosa Yemen,
Pulsallama,
The Fortunes,
Drive Like Jehu,
Tropical Tobacco,
China Crisis,
Hoover,
Morten Harket,
La Düsseldorf,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Susan Cadogan,
The Last Poets,
Visage,
MC5,
Heaven 17,
Carl Craig,
Sparks,
Cymande,
Black Bananas,
Amazonics,
The Skatalites,
Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone.
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.