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 Dominica and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Fatback Band to the rap 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 Fifty Foot Hose. All the underground hits.
All Stereo Dub tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Pus 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron 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 oboe and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultimate Spinach,
Girls At Our Best!,
Boredoms,
Negative Approach,
Sparks,
Flamin' Groovies,
Camberwell Now,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Electric Prunes,
The Doobie Brothers,
Livin' Joy,
Roxette,
Jeff Lynne,
Public Enemy,
Alice Coltrane,
Drive Like Jehu,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Nas,
Black Bananas,
Ludus,
MC5,
This Heat,
Ossler,
The Slits,
Essential Logic,
F. McDonald,
Organ,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Minor Threat,
the Fania All-Stars,
Arthur Verocai,
Motorama,
Y Pants,
Aswad,
Electric Prunes,
Albert Ayler,
Peter and Kerry,
Jawbox,
The Saints,
Ten City,
Charles Mingus,
Brass Construction,
Shuggie Otis,
The Angels of Light,
Arab on Radar,
Thompson Twins,
The Fugs,
Pagans,
Accadde A,
Radio Birdman,
Lou Christie,
D'Angelo,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Intrusion,
Leonard Cohen,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Crispy Ambulance,
Goldenarms,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane.
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.