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 Dominica and from Manchester.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 organ 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 Bobby Byrd to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Mighty Diamonds. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Sherman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ronan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New York Dolls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kayak,
The Buckinghams,
10cc,
Ornette Coleman,
Easy Going,
Faust,
Blossom Toes,
Monks,
Aswad,
Patti Smith,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Skarface,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Cybotron,
Spoonie Gee,
Leonard Cohen,
John Lydon,
The Leaves,
Agent Orange,
Young Marble Giants,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
E-Dancer,
Moebius,
Lakeside,
Ken Boothe,
Kaleidoscope,
Echospace,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Toasters,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Scratch Acid,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Seeds,
The Walker Brothers,
Brand Nubian,
The Neon Judgement,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sex Pistols,
Pere Ubu,
The Wake,
Albert Ayler,
The Flesh Eaters,
Ludus,
Marc Almond,
Jeff Mills,
The Dirtbombs,
Tears for Fears,
Essential Logic,
Au Pairs,
Accadde A,
These Immortal Souls,
Bang On A Can,
Sparks,
48th St. Collective,
The Birthday Party,
Wire,
Flash Fearless,
The Grass Roots,
Little Man,
Black Moon,
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.