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 Senegal and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Basic Channel to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Eve St. Jones. All the underground hits.
All Surgeon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The United States of America record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a harpsichord 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 harpsichord and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Christie,
Ossler,
Can,
Barry Ungar,
Duran Duran,
the Slits,
Bobby Womack,
Rapeman,
Tom Boy,
Agent Orange,
Pulsallama,
Angry Samoans,
Mark Hollis,
Aloha Tigers,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Tommy Roe,
Ornette Coleman,
Wings,
Piero Umiliani,
Nation of Ulysses,
Graham Central Station,
Dennis Brown,
Max Romeo,
Carl Craig,
Rekid,
Erasure,
Visage,
New Order,
Danielle Patucci,
PIL,
Theoretical Girls,
Infiniti,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Smoke,
Spoonie Gee,
Terrestrial Tones,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Nas,
Junior Murvin,
Marcia Griffiths,
Pharoah Sanders,
Swell Maps,
Subhumans,
Unwound,
Darondo,
Eve St. Jones,
The Sisters of Mercy,
DJ Style,
Jesper Dahlback,
Babytalk,
Kerri Chandler,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Silicon Teens,
the Soft Cell,
Arcadia,
Bush Tetras,
Trumans Water,
Judy Mowatt,
Johnny Clarke,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids.
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.