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 Equatorial Guinea and from Delhi.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 theremin 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 Joyce Sims to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Smog. All the underground hits.
All Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 10cc record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer 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 chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Divine Comedy,
The Names,
David McCallum,
Throbbing Gristle,
The J.B.'s,
Agent Orange,
Ituana,
Matthew Bourne,
Zero Boys,
Jacob Miller,
Metal Thangz,
Agitation Free,
Eli Mardock,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Soul Sonic Force,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
a-ha,
Mr. Review,
Wasted Youth,
Angry Samoans,
Y Pants,
Toni Rubio,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Suicide,
Schoolly D,
kango's stein massive,
Gerry Rafferty,
Robert Hood,
New Order,
The Associates,
Black Bananas,
Archie Shepp,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Boredoms,
Dawn Penn,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Mandrill,
Vainqueur,
Skriet,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Duran Duran,
Eden Ahbez,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Sonics,
Scratch Acid,
Intrusion,
Fad Gadget,
Von Mondo,
The Saints,
The Velvet Underground,
Q65,
The Black Dice,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Drexciya,
Hoover,
The Alarm Clocks,
Whodini,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.