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 Costa Rica and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Heaven 17 to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 American Breed. All the underground hits.
All Bauhaus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Hood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 a sitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Fania All-Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chris Corsano,
Cheater Slicks,
Nation of Ulysses,
Lindisfarne,
Lungfish,
Andrew Hill,
Camberwell Now,
The Toasters,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Radio Birdman,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
10cc,
Zapp,
Index,
Basic Channel,
The Golliwogs,
The Moody Blues,
David Bowie,
Rites of Spring,
Sister Nancy,
Graham Central Station,
Japan,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Residents,
LL Cool J,
Kenny Larkin,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Techniques,
The Names,
Jimmy McGriff,
Hoover,
Chrome,
Nik Kershaw,
Ossler,
Ralphi Rosario,
Deadbeat,
Matthew Halsall,
Scratch Acid,
OOIOO,
Suicide,
The Five Americans,
Lalo Schifrin,
Monolake,
Panda Bear,
Soft Machine,
In Retrospect,
Iggy Pop,
Eric Copeland,
Oneida,
Fat Boys,
The Slits,
E-Dancer,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Ultimate Spinach,
Eve St. Jones,
The Misunderstood,
June of 44,
Sugar Minott,
Jeru the Damaja,
Grandmaster Flash,
The American Breed,
B.T. Express,
D'Angelo, D'Angelo, D'Angelo, D'Angelo.
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.