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 Peru and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Offenders to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel. All the underground hits.
All Thompson Twins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Seeds 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Technova record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Subhumans,
The Cramps,
The Saints,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Urselle,
The Black Dice,
Niagra,
the Swans,
Blancmange,
Zero Boys,
Y Pants,
Neil Young,
Sällskapet,
Cybotron,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Dead C,
The Red Krayola,
Von Mondo,
Dual Sessions,
Underground Resistance,
Khruangbin,
Spandau Ballet,
Negative Approach,
The Evens,
Ultravox,
Audionom,
UT,
Aaron Thompson,
The Walker Brothers,
Jeff Lynne,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Gerry Rafferty,
Letta Mbulu,
Barbara Tucker,
Althea and Donna,
The Pop Group,
Yaz,
Simply Red,
Tropical Tobacco,
Sexual Harrassment,
Rotary Connection,
Johnny Clarke,
Chrome,
The Motions,
Gabor Szabo,
The Victims,
David Axelrod,
Sound Behaviour,
Prince Buster,
The Kinks,
Roy Ayers,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Eden Ahbez,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Infiniti,
Todd Rundgren,
Pere Ubu,
Monks,
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.