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 Uzbekistan and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 Copenhagen and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Ohio Players to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Marcia Griffiths. All the underground hits.
All Justin Hinds & The Dominoes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sexual Harrassment record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jawbox record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blake Baxter,
Jacques Brel,
DJ Sneak,
Brass Construction,
The Names,
Soul Sonic Force,
Todd Terry,
Ice-T,
Monolake,
Main Source,
Tres Demented,
Desert Stars,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Blossom Toes,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Pole,
Radio Birdman,
Swell Maps,
Funkadelic,
Agent Orange,
Robert Wyatt,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Matthew Halsall,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Residents,
ABBA,
Jesper Dahlback,
Inner City,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Leaves,
Kool Moe Dee,
Monks,
Youth Brigade,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Fatback Band,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Skatalites,
John Foxx,
The Beau Brummels,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Livin' Joy,
Harpers Bizarre,
Kurtis Blow,
Erykah Badu,
Nas,
Stetsasonic,
The Moleskins,
Banda Bassotti,
The Misunderstood,
David Axelrod,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Brick,
Lalo Schifrin,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Terry Callier,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Dead Boys,
The Associates,
X-Ray Spex,
Camberwell Now,
Morten Harket,
Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope.
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.