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 Tonga and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Stockholm.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Faraquet to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Eli Mardock. All the underground hits.
All Bang On A Can tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultravox record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sarah Menescal record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chris Corsano,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
the Slits,
Mad Mike,
the Swans,
Minnie Riperton,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Whodini,
Depeche Mode,
The Blackbyrds,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Moby Grape,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Radio Birdman,
Thompson Twins,
Agitation Free,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
T. Rex,
The Smiths,
Rakim,
Electric Prunes,
Lalo Schifrin,
Max Romeo,
Procol Harum,
AZ,
Rites of Spring,
Altered Images,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Pet Shop Boys,
Flamin' Groovies,
KRS-One,
Graham Central Station,
K-Klass,
Tim Buckley,
Trumans Water,
Joe Finger,
Yaz,
Iggy Pop,
Make Up,
Wings,
Roxette,
Rotary Connection,
Sugar Minott,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Reuben Wilson,
Goldenarms,
Ken Boothe,
Ornette Coleman,
Lindisfarne,
Parry Music,
June of 44,
Barclay James Harvest,
Skriet,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Doors,
kango's stein massive,
Surgeon,
Alison Limerick, Alison Limerick, Alison Limerick, Alison Limerick.
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.