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 Brunei and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Larry & the Blue Notes 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 Music Machine. All the underground hits.
All the Bar-Kays tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Misunderstood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Supertramp,
Motorama,
Unwound,
The Happenings,
Swell Maps,
Eric B and Rakim,
John Cale,
June Days,
Gang of Four,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Sixth Finger,
Man Parrish,
F. McDonald,
The Raincoats,
Section 25,
The Smiths,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Fall,
Barrington Levy,
Kaleidoscope,
the Association,
T. Rex,
Smog,
the Normal,
Magazine,
Erasure,
Desert Stars,
Max Romeo,
The Gories,
China Crisis,
David Axelrod,
Warren Ellis,
Arcadia,
Robert Hood,
Zapp,
Isaac Hayes,
Camberwell Now,
the Sonics,
The Fuzztones,
Fat Boys,
Porter Ricks,
Lungfish,
Yellowson,
Easy Going,
Howard Jones,
The Birthday Party,
New Age Steppers,
Rakim,
In Retrospect,
The Five Americans,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Pylon,
Andrew Hill,
Ornette Coleman,
Lakeside,
The Pretty Things,
Cecil Taylor,
Accadde A,
The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues.
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.