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 Pakistan and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the 808 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 Men They Couldn't Hang to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Echospace. All the underground hits.
All Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Slave 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tears for Fears record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chris Corsano,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Brick,
The Cure,
Intrusion,
OOIOO,
Mission of Burma,
Drive Like Jehu,
Mantronix,
Henry Cow,
Gil Scott Heron,
Cameo,
UT,
Skarface,
Guru Guru,
Dark Day,
Cheater Slicks,
The Wake,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Gabor Szabo,
The Evens,
Hashim,
Echospace,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Names,
Organ,
The Red Krayola,
Crooked Eye,
Blossom Toes,
U.S. Maple,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Barbara Tucker,
Fear,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Glambeats Corp.,
Pagans,
Anakelly,
cv313,
Pulsallama,
The United States of America,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Jeff Lynne,
John Cale,
In Retrospect,
Bill Wells,
Fat Boys,
The Skatalites,
June of 44,
Nation of Ulysses,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Black Flag,
Rosa Yemen,
Faraquet,
Los Fastidios,
Quando Quango,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Animal Collective,
Roger Hodgson,
Jimmy McGriff,
Sonic Youth,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Suicide,
Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment.
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.