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 Uganda and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Cramps to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Popol Vuh. All the underground hits.
All The Slackers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hashim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 rhodes and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Freddie Wadling record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Slits,
The Human League,
Hashim,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Royal Trux,
Moby Grape,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Khruangbin,
8 Eyed Spy,
John Holt,
Warsaw,
Eyeless In Gaza,
the Association,
Judy Mowatt,
The Techniques,
Deadbeat,
MDC,
Kaleidoscope,
Bad Manners,
Depeche Mode,
Nils Olav,
Slave,
The Fugs,
Sound Behaviour,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Cramps,
Kool Moe Dee,
Crime,
Lucky Dragons,
Q65,
Eric B and Rakim,
Rakim,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Wake,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Kurtis Blow,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Raincoats,
Niagra,
Mark Hollis,
Blossom Toes,
Skarface,
Todd Rundgren,
Bronski Beat,
John Cale,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Bobby Byrd,
Jawbox,
The Barracudas,
Nico,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Victims,
Max Romeo,
Ice-T,
The Divine Comedy,
Scott Walker,
The Move,
The Fortunes,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Quando Quango,
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.