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 Brazil and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Johannesburg.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the theremin 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 Harry Pussy to the punk 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 Half Japanese. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magazine 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Byrd,
Severed Heads,
Television,
Robert Wyatt,
Roy Ayers,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Modern Lovers,
Thompson Twins,
The Litter,
the Normal,
Unwound,
The Buckinghams,
Brothers Johnson,
Black Flag,
The Cure,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Selecter,
Livin' Joy,
Sarah Menescal,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Cybotron,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Pulsallama,
The Dave Clark Five,
Camouflage,
Radiohead,
The Offenders,
Shoche,
Banda Bassotti,
The Gun Club,
The Smoke,
Kevin Saunderson,
Mandrill,
Intrusion,
Scientists,
Man Eating Sloth,
Gang Gang Dance,
Peter and Kerry,
Faraquet,
The Gladiators,
The Monks,
Ossler,
The Fugs,
Ituana,
The Dirtbombs,
the Association,
Ronan,
R.M.O.,
The Slackers,
Sam Rivers,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Althea and Donna,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Ornette Coleman,
Country Teasers,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Adolescents,
Lakeside,
Morten Harket,
Alison Limerick,
Trumans Water,
Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope.
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.