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 Tajikistan and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Tokyo.
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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Buzzcocks to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Jesus and Mary Chain. All the underground hits.
All The Tremeloes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Hood 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum 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 güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Mad Mike,
Neu!,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Technova,
Faraquet,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Leonard Cohen,
Crash Course in Science,
Carl Craig,
The Invisible,
Buzzcocks,
Byron Stingily,
Fatback Band,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Gastr Del Sol,
CMW,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Dave Clark Five,
New York Dolls,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Human League,
The United States of America,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Marc Almond,
K-Klass,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Bobby Byrd,
Bob Dylan,
Excepter,
Zapp,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Modern Lovers,
Cameo,
F. McDonald,
Eric Dolphy,
Tubeway Army,
Little Man,
Radiopuhelimet,
Icehouse,
Silicon Teens,
Adolescents,
Letta Mbulu,
Joensuu 1685,
Joey Negro,
Gil Scott Heron,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
ABBA,
Nation of Ulysses,
Grey Daturas,
The Count Five,
Hardrive,
Rekid,
Freddie Wadling,
Unwound,
Theoretical Girls,
H. Thieme,
Sarah Menescal,
Nik Kershaw,
Joy Division,
Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman.
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.