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 Cambodia and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Nick Fraelich to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Crispian St. Peters. All the underground hits.
All The Moody Blues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every KRS-One 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an organ 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 marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chrome,
David Bowie,
Royal Trux,
Ralphi Rosario,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Deepchord,
Toni Rubio,
Symarip,
Outsiders,
Supertramp,
Ornette Coleman,
the Slits,
Big Daddy Kane,
Desert Stars,
T. Rex,
Cybotron,
David McCallum,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Eddi Front,
New Order,
The Black Dice,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Associates,
The Young Rascals,
The Grass Roots,
Monolake,
Section 25,
Crooked Eye,
Dawn Penn,
Flash Fearless,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Gang Green,
Circle Jerks,
Make Up,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Wally Richardson,
Eric Dolphy,
Blancmange,
Smog,
Hot Snakes,
Pere Ubu,
Neil Young,
Eurythmics,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Monochrome Set,
Maleditus Sound,
Scrapy,
Crime,
Heaven 17,
Lower 48,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Black Bananas,
Junior Murvin,
Gerry Rafferty,
The J.B.'s,
Crispian St. Peters,
Tubeway Army,
Liliput,
cv313,
The Toasters,
Davy DMX,
Lyres, Lyres, Lyres, Lyres.
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.