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 Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Houston.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 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 The New Christs to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Sisters of Mercy. All the underground hits.
All Dennis Brown tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bronski Beat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a güiro 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 clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Lydon,
Youth Brigade,
Tres Demented,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Saints,
Peter and Kerry,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
D'Angelo,
The Remains,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Quando Quango,
Soft Cell,
The Blackbyrds,
The Fortunes,
Davy DMX,
Gastr Del Sol,
Stetsasonic,
kango's stein massive,
Rod Modell,
Wolf Eyes,
Massinfluence,
Ken Boothe,
the Bar-Kays,
Lucky Dragons,
The Zeros,
Y Pants,
Niagra,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Brand Nubian,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Nation of Ulysses,
Dawn Penn,
Moby Grape,
Index,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Bill Wells,
Pet Shop Boys,
Funky Four + One,
Barry Ungar,
Magma,
Boz Scaggs,
the Fania All-Stars,
Harry Pussy,
Bobby Womack,
Gerry Rafferty,
Pere Ubu,
EPMD,
48th St. Collective,
Mary Jane Girls,
Warren Ellis,
Scion,
The Gun Club,
Rufus Thomas,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
A Certain Ratio,
Heaven 17,
London Community Gospel Choir,
New York Dolls,
FM Einheit,
Subhumans,
the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics.
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.