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 United States and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Laurel Aitken to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme. All the underground hits.
All Magma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispy Ambulance 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gregory Isaacs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camouflage,
Lower 48,
Pole,
Quadrant,
X-101,
Groovy Waters,
Bobby Sherman,
Colin Newman,
Sly & The Family Stone,
June Days,
Mad Mike,
Chris & Cosey,
Gil Scott Heron,
A Certain Ratio,
Altered Images,
UT,
The Grass Roots,
Pulsallama,
Lebanon Hanover,
Pet Shop Boys,
Inner City,
Skaos,
The Beau Brummels,
Dark Day,
Donny Hathaway,
Yaz,
The Trojans,
John Cale,
Fluxion,
Babytalk,
Brothers Johnson,
Harpers Bizarre,
Silicon Teens,
Spandau Ballet,
The Gladiators,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Leaves,
Neu!,
Gabor Szabo,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Average White Band,
Masters at Work,
Gang Gang Dance,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Trumans Water,
The Kinks,
Blossom Toes,
the Association,
Agitation Free,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Soft Machine,
Matthew Halsall,
Interpol,
Model 500,
Susan Cadogan,
Oblivians,
Surgeon,
The Barracudas,
Parry Music,
Joe Finger,
Rotary Connection,
L. Decosne,
David Bowie,
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.