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 Panama and from Bologna.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Winnipeg.
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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Q65 to the disco 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 Cecil Taylor. All the underground hits.
All Soul II Soul tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Q and Not U 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a synthesizer 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 marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultra Naté,
Bobby Byrd,
The Mummies,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Robert Görl,
Dawn Penn,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Sex Pistols,
Rosa Yemen,
Funkadelic,
The Moody Blues,
Byron Stingily,
Tears for Fears,
The Standells,
Yazoo,
Depeche Mode,
Arab on Radar,
Mandrill,
The Dave Clark Five,
Iggy Pop,
The Wake,
Interpol,
The Sonics,
Faraquet,
Prince Buster,
Toni Rubio,
KRS-One,
The American Breed,
Sixth Finger,
The Electric Prunes,
Arthur Verocai,
Fluxion,
Yusef Lateef,
Nirvana,
Sister Nancy,
The Move,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
the Slits,
Angry Samoans,
Gang Gang Dance,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Hot Snakes,
the Swans,
PIL,
Leonard Cohen,
Maurizio,
Marcia Griffiths,
Severed Heads,
Skarface,
This Heat,
Arcadia,
Reagan Youth,
the Germs,
Aaron Thompson,
Monolake,
Black Flag,
Soul Sonic Force,
Tubeway Army,
Mark Hollis,
Royal Trux,
Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall.
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.