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 Mexico and from Bremen.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Roger Hodgson to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 John Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All Cabaret Voltaire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rhythm & Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 a mellotron and an arpeggiator 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 oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Sheep,
Basic Channel,
Boredoms,
Flipper,
Gong,
Barrington Levy,
Jeff Mills,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Invisible,
The Real Kids,
The Dead C,
Anthony Braxton,
Morten Harket,
Lyres,
Neil Young,
Dave Gahan,
Black Flag,
Circle Jerks,
Severed Heads,
Accadde A,
The Birthday Party,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Names,
Masters at Work,
Ken Boothe,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Swell Maps,
David Bowie,
Spoonie Gee,
Glambeats Corp.,
Ludus,
Gabor Szabo,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Donny Hathaway,
Siglo XX,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Oblivians,
Marmalade,
Skriet,
Slave,
Interpol,
Black Pus,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Nas,
Brothers Johnson,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Porter Ricks,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Walker Brothers,
Brand Nubian,
Bobby Womack,
The Remains,
The Monochrome Set,
Lee Hazlewood,
New York Dolls,
Eyeless In Gaza,
KRS-One,
Scrapy,
Magazine,
Juan Atkins,
Motorama, Motorama, Motorama, Motorama.
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.