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 Monaco and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Philadelphia.
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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the guitar 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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs to the techno 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 Rakim. All the underground hits.
All Deakin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rapeman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flipper record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Pus,
Animal Collective,
Kool Moe Dee,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Standells,
Swans,
Moss Icon,
Metal Thangz,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Slits,
Gichy Dan,
Soulsonic Force,
Scrapy,
Joy Division,
Letta Mbulu,
Sexual Harrassment,
Von Mondo,
Bang On A Can,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Whodini,
Silicon Teens,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Smiths,
Gong,
The Trojans,
The Music Machine,
John Coltrane,
Connie Case,
Intrusion,
Patti Smith,
Roxy Music,
Ludus,
Minnie Riperton,
The Toasters,
Radiohead,
Avey Tare,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Public Enemy,
Kaleidoscope,
Fad Gadget,
DNA,
James Chance & The Contortions,
the Normal,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Walker Brothers,
The Mummies,
Fugazi,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Bootsy Collins,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
U.S. Maple,
Cybotron,
Soul Sonic Force,
Terry Callier,
PIL,
DJ Sneak,
Nils Olav,
Mantronix,
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.