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 Djibouti and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Soul Sonic Force to the dance 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 La Düsseldorf. All the underground hits.
All E-Dancer tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lebanon Hanover record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Symarip,
Gastr Del Sol,
Marshall Jefferson,
Minor Threat,
Sexual Harrassment,
Agent Orange,
Spandau Ballet,
The Pretty Things,
Lower 48,
Joe Finger,
Morten Harket,
The Black Dice,
Shoche,
X-Ray Spex,
Barry Ungar,
The Music Machine,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Skriet,
Arthur Verocai,
The Remains,
Cameo,
Joy Division,
Tom Boy,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Angry Samoans,
a-ha,
The Pop Group,
Average White Band,
The Raincoats,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Detroit Cobras,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Ponytail,
Lindisfarne,
Main Source,
Maleditus Sound,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Sarah Menescal,
Ultra Naté,
Man Eating Sloth,
E-Dancer,
Altered Images,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Soul Sonic Force,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Lucky Dragons,
Rhythm & Sound,
Icehouse,
The Wake,
Fad Gadget,
Sparks,
Electric Prunes,
Mark Hollis,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Cheater Slicks,
David Bowie,
Traffic Nightmare,
Jerry's Kids,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
KRS-One,
Masters at Work,
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.