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 Guinea-Bissau and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 kango's stein massive to the dance 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 The Sonics. All the underground hits.
All Slick Rick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Tremeloes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a theremin 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 theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camberwell Now,
The Index,
the Association,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Nils Olav,
PIL,
Gerry Rafferty,
Minnie Riperton,
Girls At Our Best!,
E-Dancer,
Schoolly D,
Yaz,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Minor Threat,
Fad Gadget,
Thee Headcoats,
Connie Case,
Wings,
Simply Red,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Morten Harket,
Bush Tetras,
Guru Guru,
Hot Snakes,
Charles Mingus,
Kool Moe Dee,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Surgeon,
Khruangbin,
New York Dolls,
Fela Kuti,
Ronnie Foster,
Altered Images,
Second Layer,
Leonard Cohen,
Public Enemy,
Mars,
Monks,
Joey Negro,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
X-101,
Marcia Griffiths,
Scott Walker,
Pylon,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Pretty Things,
the Fania All-Stars,
Moss Icon,
Barrington Levy,
Laurel Aitken,
Graham Central Station,
The New Christs,
Visage,
Don Cherry,
Alton Ellis,
Marmalade,
Crispy Ambulance,
Unwound,
Dennis Brown,
These Immortal Souls,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Five Americans,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review.
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.