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 Nauru and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 rhodes 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 Tim Buckley to the crunk 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 Marcia Griffiths. All the underground hits.
All The Red Krayola tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Slave record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a güiro 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 arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Dead C,
Desert Stars,
Fort Wilson Riot,
MC5,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Excepter,
Ken Boothe,
Spoonie Gee,
Urselle,
Stiv Bators,
Avey Tare,
Mr. Review,
The Slits,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Suburban Knight,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Soul Sonic Force,
Maurizio,
John Lydon,
Rhythm & Sound,
Charles Mingus,
Nas,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Johnny Clarke,
Unwound,
R.M.O.,
Lalann,
Bang On A Can,
Colin Newman,
Crash Course in Science,
Gang Gang Dance,
Soul II Soul,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
One Last Wish,
Newcleus,
Banda Bassotti,
Blossom Toes,
Porter Ricks,
MDC,
Fat Boys,
The Litter,
Barbara Tucker,
David Axelrod,
The Evens,
Oneida,
John Foxx,
Fluxion,
Index,
The Cure,
Neu!,
Harpers Bizarre,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Rufus Thomas,
Lungfish,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sex Pistols,
Minny Pops,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Flamin' Groovies,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Erasure,
Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy.
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.