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 Gambia and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the oboe 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 The Evens to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 H. Thieme. All the underground hits.
All Hashim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Matthew Bourne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James Chance & The Contortions record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Audionom,
Nirvana,
David McCallum,
The Invisible,
Little Man,
Lungfish,
Marshall Jefferson,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Inner City,
Swans,
Althea and Donna,
The Raincoats,
Brass Construction,
Byron Stingily,
Ronan,
Joe Smooth,
Y Pants,
Rufus Thomas,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Slits,
Popol Vuh,
Skriet,
The Slackers,
F. McDonald,
DJ Style,
Procol Harum,
Absolute Body Control,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Das Ding,
Average White Band,
Matthew Bourne,
Motorama,
James White and The Blacks,
Dark Day,
Harry Pussy,
Laurel Aitken,
Interpol,
Gregory Isaacs,
Throbbing Gristle,
Patti Smith,
Animal Collective,
Wally Richardson,
Hardrive,
Pole,
Amon Düül,
The Cramps,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Freddie Wadling,
the Sonics,
The Doors,
Robert Görl,
Goldenarms,
Oneida,
Roxy Music,
Spandau Ballet,
Lindisfarne,
Aloha Tigers,
Warren Ellis,
The Angels of Light,
Barry Ungar,
Arthur Verocai,
The Red Krayola,
The New Christs,
The Techniques,
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.