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 Finland and from London.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Malaria! to the electroclash 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 Dead Boys. All the underground hits.
All Terror Squad Feat. Camron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joensuu 1685 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar 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 spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wasted Youth,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Animal Collective,
Pylon,
Amazonics,
Bill Wells,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The J.B.'s,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Pharoah Sanders,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Joey Negro,
Talk Talk,
Vainqueur,
Kurtis Blow,
Gastr Del Sol,
Pantaleimon,
H. Thieme,
Malaria!,
Brand Nubian,
Nick Fraelich,
Nas,
The Motions,
Warren Ellis,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Litter,
Tommy Roe,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Q and Not U,
Archie Shepp,
Charles Mingus,
Oneida,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Music Machine,
The Gories,
Royal Trux,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Throbbing Gristle,
Tim Buckley,
The Five Americans,
The Vogues,
Glenn Branca,
Bobbi Humphrey,
New Age Steppers,
Das Ding,
Lalann,
Delon & Dalcan,
Hasil Adkins,
EPMD,
Sonic Youth,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Surgeon,
Vladislav Delay,
Bauhaus,
Aswad,
The Residents,
the Germs,
Leonard Cohen,
Kool Moe Dee,
Tom Boy,
Blake Baxter,
The Mojo Men,
The Gun Club, The Gun Club, The Gun Club, The Gun Club.
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.