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 Morocco and from Portland.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Arthur Verocai to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Junior Murvin. All the underground hits.
All Suburban Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Skatalites record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sisters of Mercy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Christie,
The Selecter,
Soul II Soul,
Arthur Verocai,
Sparks,
Roy Ayers,
Crispian St. Peters,
Minutemen,
Ronnie Foster,
Danielle Patucci,
The Flesh Eaters,
Pere Ubu,
Blossom Toes,
Bush Tetras,
Rotary Connection,
Theoretical Girls,
The Monochrome Set,
Crooked Eye,
Little Man,
Mad Mike,
The Victims,
Wasted Youth,
Lindisfarne,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Isaac Hayes,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Tomorrow,
The Sound,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Gabor Szabo,
The Slackers,
Pussy Galore,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Ponytail,
Schoolly D,
The Fortunes,
Hardrive,
Electric Prunes,
Suicide,
Visage,
Absolute Body Control,
MDC,
The Angels of Light,
Youth Brigade,
Reuben Wilson,
E-Dancer,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
John Holt,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Marine Girls,
Nik Kershaw,
a-ha,
Spandau Ballet,
The Cowsills,
Mantronix,
One Last Wish,
The Saints,
Kerri Chandler,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Susan Cadogan,
Black Pus,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
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.