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 Rwanda and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Junior Murvin to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Barclay James Harvest. All the underground hits.
All The Durutti Column tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bob Dylan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 rhodes 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 snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blancmange,
Symarip,
Patti Smith,
Adolescents,
Gil Scott Heron,
Pulsallama,
Derrick Morgan,
Ornette Coleman,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Crash Course in Science,
Black Sheep,
Marcia Griffiths,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Tres Demented,
Minutemen,
Barbara Tucker,
Ten City,
Harpers Bizarre,
June Days,
Howard Jones,
The Stooges,
James White and The Blacks,
Moebius,
Piero Umiliani,
Michelle Simonal,
Nation of Ulysses,
Bizarre Inc.,
Ultravox,
Unrelated Segments,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Human League,
New Age Steppers,
Gregory Isaacs,
La Düsseldorf,
Curtis Mayfield,
H. Thieme,
Mad Mike,
the Bar-Kays,
Nils Olav,
Tommy Roe,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Dirtbombs,
Amazonics,
Arthur Verocai,
The Fuzztones,
Erasure,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Litter,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
MC5,
Ohio Players,
Royal Trux,
cv313,
Fad Gadget,
L. Decosne,
Desert Stars,
Mary Jane Girls,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
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.