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 Afghanistan and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
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 The Skatalites to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Rahsaan Roland Kirk. All the underground hits.
All Judy Mowatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sound Behaviour record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Barracudas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sex Pistols,
The Beau Brummels,
Lebanon Hanover,
Goldenarms,
Technova,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Excepter,
Thompson Twins,
Mantronix,
Unrelated Segments,
Talk Talk,
Mars,
Neu!,
The Pop Group,
Peter and Kerry,
Kenny Larkin,
Johnny Clarke,
Godley & Creme,
Smog,
Lungfish,
Judy Mowatt,
Gil Scott Heron,
H. Thieme,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Modern Lovers,
Janne Schatter,
The Last Poets,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Fat Boys,
Aloha Tigers,
The Motions,
Grandmaster Flash,
Bang On A Can,
Black Bananas,
Jeru the Damaja,
Jacques Brel,
The Alarm Clocks,
Skaos,
Steve Hackett,
The Searchers,
The Toasters,
Infiniti,
The Residents,
Sixth Finger,
Livin' Joy,
Angry Samoans,
Ronan,
Chrome,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Au Pairs,
Simply Red,
The Tremeloes,
The Divine Comedy,
The Dirtbombs,
Derrick May,
Eli Mardock,
The Moleskins,
Suburban Knight,
This Heat,
Kerrie Biddell,
Piero Umiliani, Piero Umiliani, Piero Umiliani, Piero Umiliani.
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.