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 Iraq and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Move to the electroclash 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 Flash Fearless. All the underground hits.
All Glenn Branca tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skriet 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Wake record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
48th St. Collective,
The Blues Magoos,
Lou Reed,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Jacques Brel,
Robert Hood,
Bauhaus,
Kevin Saunderson,
Siglo XX,
Altered Images,
Boogie Down Productions,
Loose Ends,
Ossler,
Los Fastidios,
Cluster,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
the Germs,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Infiniti,
Fatback Band,
The Golliwogs,
Wally Richardson,
the Bar-Kays,
Chrome,
James White and The Blacks,
Mary Jane Girls,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Bush Tetras,
Colin Newman,
EPMD,
Eli Mardock,
Magma,
Crime,
Skaos,
David McCallum,
Cymande,
Anakelly,
Letta Mbulu,
Marine Girls,
Faraquet,
FM Einheit,
Albert Ayler,
Tres Demented,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Evens,
Organ,
Rapeman,
The Zeros,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Outsiders,
The Fugs,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Carl Craig,
Moss Icon,
Mr. Review,
The Smiths,
Donald Byrd,
Au Pairs,
Curtis Mayfield,
Grey Daturas,
Public Image Ltd.,
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.