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 Burundi and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Royal Family And The Poor to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Fat Boys. All the underground hits.
All The Count Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Doors record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a marimba 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 clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stockholm Monsters,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Slackers,
Joyce Sims,
Big Daddy Kane,
Laurel Aitken,
Jeff Lynne,
Marmalade,
Scion,
The Divine Comedy,
Rites of Spring,
K-Klass,
Byron Stingily,
Dennis Brown,
Janne Schatter,
Wire,
Jesper Dahlback,
Soulsonic Force,
Barrington Levy,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Sight & Sound,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Khruangbin,
Electric Light Orchestra,
DJ Sneak,
The Gladiators,
Susan Cadogan,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Wings,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Monks,
Echospace,
Y Pants,
The Selecter,
Trumans Water,
Tubeway Army,
Bush Tetras,
Zero Boys,
Brass Construction,
Au Pairs,
Main Source,
Banda Bassotti,
Johnny Osbourne,
the Association,
Marine Girls,
The Last Poets,
Swell Maps,
Black Sheep,
Ludus,
The Pretty Things,
The Human League,
The Blackbyrds,
Sonic Youth,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Mojo Men,
Althea and Donna,
Minor Threat,
Freddie Wadling,
L. Decosne,
Das Ding,
Loose Ends,
OOIOO,
Radio Birdman,
June of 44,
Skaos, Skaos, Skaos, Skaos.
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.