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 Haiti and from Tehran.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 New Age Steppers to the crunk 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 Depeche Mode. All the underground hits.
All David Axelrod tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every H. Thieme record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 an arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brass Construction record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Iggy Pop,
Wally Richardson,
Rakim,
Man Eating Sloth,
Spoonie Gee,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Lee Hazlewood,
Index,
the Swans,
Magma,
Tears for Fears,
Ituana,
Quando Quango,
Girls At Our Best!,
Carl Craig,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Gerry Rafferty,
China Crisis,
Guru Guru,
Fat Boys,
Camberwell Now,
Max Romeo,
John Coltrane,
Scott Walker,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Joey Negro,
Sexual Harrassment,
Tom Boy,
Banda Bassotti,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Heaven 17,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Grey Daturas,
The Litter,
Cybotron,
Swell Maps,
The American Breed,
Radio Birdman,
the Slits,
The Gun Club,
Funky Four + One,
The J.B.'s,
The Slits,
Bang On A Can,
The Victims,
The Knickerbockers,
Lakeside,
Judy Mowatt,
Jeff Lynne,
Oneida,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Anthony Braxton,
Underground Resistance,
Fatback Band,
Mary Jane Girls,
Byron Stingily,
Barclay James Harvest,
Suicide,
Peter & Gordon,
Roxy Music,
Eyeless In Gaza,
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.