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 Benin and from Toronto.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Lagos.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the sitar 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 Marvin Gaye to the disco 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 the Normal. All the underground hits.
All Rufus Thomas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a harpsichord 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 marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grandmaster Flash,
Ponytail,
Roxette,
Sound Behaviour,
Ice-T,
Ludus,
Minutemen,
The Blackbyrds,
The Index,
The Wake,
Blancmange,
Faraquet,
Gang Green,
Lee Hazlewood,
Los Fastidios,
Derrick Morgan,
The Golliwogs,
Rufus Thomas,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Mo-Dettes,
Hasil Adkins,
Byron Stingily,
Subhumans,
Joensuu 1685,
Kevin Saunderson,
Todd Terry,
B.T. Express,
Pharoah Sanders,
Agent Orange,
Das Ding,
Wire,
Quantec,
Robert Hood,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The J.B.'s,
The Trojans,
Danielle Patucci,
Reagan Youth,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Colin Newman,
John Holt,
The Barracudas,
Little Man,
Matthew Halsall,
Eli Mardock,
Procol Harum,
Moby Grape,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Walker Brothers,
Tom Boy,
The Seeds,
Black Flag,
Massinfluence,
Dennis Brown,
The Pop Group,
Dead Boys,
JFA,
Marshall Jefferson,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Donald Byrd,
Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan.
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.