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 Sierra Leone and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Angry Samoans to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Wake. All the underground hits.
All The Buckinghams tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every F. McDonald record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a chamberlin 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 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?
Flamin' Groovies,
Tears for Fears,
Black Bananas,
Shuggie Otis,
The Offenders,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Names,
The Happenings,
Patti Smith,
The Cowsills,
H. Thieme,
Rotary Connection,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Hoover,
Bush Tetras,
Iggy Pop,
The Tremeloes,
Mo-Dettes,
Easy Going,
The Searchers,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Television Personalities,
X-102,
Minor Threat,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
John Cale,
The Fugs,
Newcleus,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
the Normal,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Gap Band,
Glambeats Corp.,
Sexual Harrassment,
John Holt,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Little Man,
Unrelated Segments,
New Age Steppers,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
New Order,
Alice Coltrane,
The Human League,
ABC,
The Pretty Things,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Fear,
Joensuu 1685,
Rhythm & Sound,
Crispian St. Peters,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Bad Manners,
Absolute Body Control,
Model 500,
the Bar-Kays,
Q and Not U,
Underground Resistance,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Grandmaster Flash,
Jeff Mills,
This Heat,
Gang Green,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios.
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.