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 Israel and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 The Techniques to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Sam Rivers. All the underground hits.
All Fat Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ice-T record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a linndrum 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 linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kenny Larkin,
The Stooges,
Peter and Kerry,
The Black Dice,
Aloha Tigers,
Smog,
LL Cool J,
Yellowson,
John Lydon,
Rapeman,
Jesper Dahlback,
Bauhaus,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Crispian St. Peters,
Angry Samoans,
Reuben Wilson,
Mo-Dettes,
Warsaw,
The Searchers,
Ken Boothe,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Archie Shepp,
Sister Nancy,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Porter Ricks,
Suicide,
Tommy Roe,
Royal Trux,
The Remains,
Ohio Players,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Smoke,
Circle Jerks,
Crispy Ambulance,
Underground Resistance,
The Saints,
Ronan,
Intrusion,
Jeff Lynne,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Alice Coltrane,
Mantronix,
Jimmy McGriff,
Soul II Soul,
Mars,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
JFA,
Deakin,
Juan Atkins,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Pantytec,
the Soft Cell,
Ponytail,
Country Teasers,
Brass Construction,
David McCallum,
Young Marble Giants,
The Standells,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse.
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.