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 Poland and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Shanghai.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Moleskins to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 New Christs. All the underground hits.
All The Music Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lizzy Mercier Descloux record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Audionom record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bad Manners,
The Raincoats,
Neu!,
The Vogues,
Wasted Youth,
The American Breed,
The Victims,
The Walker Brothers,
Agitation Free,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Toasters,
Ken Boothe,
Negative Approach,
ABC,
Smog,
Todd Terry,
Isaac Hayes,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Moss Icon,
Black Sheep,
Faraquet,
Deepchord,
Joe Finger,
Los Fastidios,
Minnie Riperton,
The Young Rascals,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Pet Shop Boys,
Matthew Halsall,
Inner City,
T. Rex,
Lyres,
the Human League,
The Blackbyrds,
Desert Stars,
Arab on Radar,
Rotary Connection,
Youth Brigade,
Wings,
The Zeros,
Black Bananas,
Lungfish,
Dead Boys,
Chrome,
Yaz,
The Blues Magoos,
The Seeds,
Stockholm Monsters,
Bush Tetras,
Goldenarms,
Fluxion,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
a-ha,
The Alarm Clocks,
Swans,
Byron Stingily,
The Residents,
10cc,
Terry Callier,
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.