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 South Africa and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 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 Sällskapet to the rock 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 The Residents. All the underground hits.
All The Shadows of Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Television record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 synthesizer and a mellotron 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 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cameo,
Radiohead,
Gang Gang Dance,
Gerry Rafferty,
Dawn Penn,
Deepchord,
Ralphi Rosario,
David McCallum,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Dorothy Ashby,
Judy Mowatt,
The Trojans,
Amon Düül II,
Angry Samoans,
Delta 5,
Girls At Our Best!,
Jerry's Kids,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Ronan,
Barry Ungar,
New York Dolls,
Suburban Knight,
Nation of Ulysses,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Cheater Slicks,
MDC,
Joensuu 1685,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Roy Ayers,
Barrington Levy,
Circle Jerks,
A Certain Ratio,
Laurel Aitken,
DJ Style,
the Fania All-Stars,
Lindisfarne,
Nick Fraelich,
The Remains,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Pet Shop Boys,
Ice-T,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Malaria!,
Joyce Sims,
Adolescents,
Japan,
Donny Hathaway,
Saccharine Trust,
The Mummies,
kango's stein massive,
AZ,
Kenny Larkin,
Bad Manners,
Brick,
Jacques Brel,
Boz Scaggs,
Spandau Ballet,
Suicide,
Sonny Sharrock,
Joe Smooth,
Piero Umiliani,
Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey.
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.