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 Iran and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Juan Atkins to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Metal Thangz. All the underground hits.
All Anthony Braxton tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Absolute Body Control record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an organ 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 arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kerri Chandler,
LL Cool J,
The J.B.'s,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Guru Guru,
June Days,
Brick,
Monks,
Steve Hackett,
Blossom Toes,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Sister Nancy,
Gregory Isaacs,
the Swans,
Duran Duran,
Saccharine Trust,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Ronan,
Suicide,
10cc,
Scan 7,
X-101,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Smiths,
Ten City,
Erasure,
Maurizio,
Panda Bear,
Hot Snakes,
Charles Mingus,
Wolf Eyes,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Bill Near,
Donny Hathaway,
Jacob Miller,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Inner City,
the Slits,
Rakim,
Siglo XX,
Josef K,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Maleditus Sound,
Deakin,
Archie Shepp,
Fear,
Barry Ungar,
Minnie Riperton,
Crash Course in Science,
Amazonics,
Marine Girls,
Idris Muhammad,
The Misunderstood,
Adolescents,
The Smoke,
Hasil Adkins,
The Human League,
the Fania All-Stars,
Don Cherry,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Bauhaus,
David Axelrod, David Axelrod, David Axelrod, David Axelrod.
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.