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 Canada and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Minnie Riperton to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Alison Limerick. All the underground hits.
All The Young Rascals tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Blackbyrds 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 güiro and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oblivians record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slackers,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Gun Club,
the Germs,
Dead Boys,
The Fall,
Grey Daturas,
Lungfish,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Sonics,
the Soft Cell,
Aloha Tigers,
A Certain Ratio,
The Vogues,
The Tremeloes,
The Mojo Men,
Boogie Down Productions,
Eurythmics,
Fugazi,
Bob Dylan,
Harmonia,
Rakim,
The Smiths,
Lucky Dragons,
Terrestrial Tones,
Ornette Coleman,
Babytalk,
the Association,
The Leaves,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Oneida,
Susan Cadogan,
Jacques Brel,
Nik Kershaw,
Jacob Miller,
Quantec,
Faraquet,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Boredoms,
Underground Resistance,
Black Flag,
The Neon Judgement,
The Names,
Masters at Work,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Barracudas,
The Cramps,
Massinfluence,
Rapeman,
Cal Tjader,
The Gories,
The Moody Blues,
The Real Kids,
Bluetip,
Jimmy McGriff,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Ossler,
Main Source,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Popol Vuh,
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.