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 Papua New Guinea and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 synthesizer 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 The Electric Prunes to the rock 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 The Toasters. All the underground hits.
All Joe Finger tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Symarip 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a linndrum 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 synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ponytail,
The Sound,
Vainqueur,
The J.B.'s,
Donny Hathaway,
Warren Ellis,
Hoover,
The Stooges,
Stetsasonic,
The Tremeloes,
K-Klass,
The Human League,
Bluetip,
Susan Cadogan,
The Pretty Things,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Fear,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Danielle Patucci,
Stereo Dub,
The Angels of Light,
The Modern Lovers,
The Standells,
Joensuu 1685,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Cluster,
Terrestrial Tones,
Black Bananas,
Harry Pussy,
the Swans,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Nils Olav,
Au Pairs,
EPMD,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Glambeats Corp.,
Tropical Tobacco,
Henry Cow,
Organ,
Minny Pops,
Barrington Levy,
Scratch Acid,
Ken Boothe,
Robert Hood,
R.M.O.,
Gerry Rafferty,
John Lydon,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Essential Logic,
Spandau Ballet,
the Bar-Kays,
Fela Kuti,
The Invisible,
Eric Copeland,
Rod Modell,
Avey Tare,
Juan Atkins,
Dawn Penn,
Wally Richardson,
One Last Wish,
June of 44, June of 44, June of 44, June of 44.
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.