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 Iceland and from Mexico City.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Misunderstood to the electroclash 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx. All the underground hits.
All Agitation Free tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Maleditus Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rekid record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Detroit Cobras,
Gang of Four,
Simply Red,
Au Pairs,
Scratch Acid,
Dark Day,
Surgeon,
Mission of Burma,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Jeff Mills,
Glambeats Corp.,
the Fania All-Stars,
Peter & Gordon,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Fortunes,
Young Marble Giants,
Ultravox,
The Smiths,
Scan 7,
Juan Atkins,
Todd Terry,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Searchers,
ABC,
Judy Mowatt,
The Cramps,
Yusef Lateef,
Henry Cow,
Bob Dylan,
Gang Green,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Monks,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Bronski Beat,
Malaria!,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Howard Jones,
The Blackbyrds,
Fad Gadget,
Peter and Kerry,
Ten City,
New Age Steppers,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Pop Group,
Crooked Eye,
Godley & Creme,
Skaos,
Colin Newman,
Crispy Ambulance,
Barclay James Harvest,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Victims,
Lindisfarne,
Second Layer,
Bang On A Can,
Tres Demented,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Martian,
Kurtis Blow,
Bill Near,
Lyres, Lyres, Lyres, Lyres.
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.