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 Brazil and from Portland.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Salvador.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Girls At Our Best! to the disco 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 The Star Department. All the underground hits.
All The Litter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every kango's stein massive 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Evens record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chris Corsano,
Cheater Slicks,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Freddie Wadling,
The Trojans,
Los Fastidios,
The Smiths,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Aloha Tigers,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Young Marble Giants,
Sällskapet,
Todd Terry,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Michelle Simonal,
The Associates,
Agent Orange,
K-Klass,
The Moleskins,
Joensuu 1685,
The Offenders,
Wally Richardson,
Zero Boys,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Marshall Jefferson,
Patti Smith,
Soft Machine,
Glambeats Corp.,
Kool Moe Dee,
Interpol,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Angry Samoans,
Anthony Braxton,
Flash Fearless,
Jeff Lynne,
Nirvana,
The Evens,
Amazonics,
Gabor Szabo,
Dawn Penn,
Rosa Yemen,
R.M.O.,
Alice Coltrane,
Public Enemy,
Sam Rivers,
Ituana,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Blossom Toes,
Symarip,
The Cramps,
ABBA,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Sarah Menescal,
Rhythm & Sound,
Crime,
Cameo,
The Smoke,
David Bowie, David Bowie, David Bowie, David Bowie.
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.