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 Maldives and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 Columbus and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Sly & The Family Stone to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Sugar Minott. All the underground hits.
All Jeru the Damaja tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Selecter 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jerry's Kids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jandek,
Das Ding,
John Foxx,
The Evens,
The Cure,
Tom Boy,
the Fania All-Stars,
Porter Ricks,
Crispian St. Peters,
Eric Dolphy,
Byron Stingily,
The Pretty Things,
DJ Style,
Tears for Fears,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Names,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Robert Hood,
Make Up,
Pussy Galore,
The Remains,
Crispy Ambulance,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Busters,
The Buckinghams,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Saints,
Duran Duran,
Q and Not U,
Little Man,
Terry Callier,
The Residents,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
LL Cool J,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Deepchord,
Gang Starr,
Cameo,
Fad Gadget,
Grauzone,
The Sonics,
Masters at Work,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Marine Girls,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Jeff Lynne,
The Leaves,
Gregory Isaacs,
Donald Byrd,
The Raincoats,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Althea and Donna,
Visage,
Desert Stars,
Qualms,
Kerrie Biddell,
Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish.
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.