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 Bahamas and from Cairo.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 ABC to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All Liliput tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Sherman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a rhodes 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 marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kool Moe Dee,
The Red Krayola,
Jawbox,
F. McDonald,
Brothers Johnson,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Dead C,
Swans,
Johnny Clarke,
Second Layer,
The Martian,
Amazonics,
Trumans Water,
Tim Buckley,
Eric B and Rakim,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Bluetip,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Scrapy,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Joe Smooth,
Bobby Womack,
Byron Stingily,
Skriet,
Grandmaster Flash,
Symarip,
Rapeman,
The Shadows of Knight,
Royal Trux,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Dark Day,
the Bar-Kays,
Moss Icon,
Soulsonic Force,
Graham Central Station,
T.S.O.L.,
This Heat,
La Düsseldorf,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Sonny Sharrock,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Wally Richardson,
Duran Duran,
Toni Rubio,
Marcia Griffiths,
Alison Limerick,
Erasure,
Marine Girls,
Roger Hodgson,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Nik Kershaw,
Sandy B,
Section 25,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Fuzztones,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Sparks,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Kerri Chandler,
The Fire Engines,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell.
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.