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 Portugal and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Liliput to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 F. McDonald. All the underground hits.
All Don Cherry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Angels of Light record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 clarinet and a sitar 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 arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fortunes,
Pantytec,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Niagra,
Talk Talk,
Arcadia,
Au Pairs,
Reagan Youth,
Ken Boothe,
Electric Light Orchestra,
ABBA,
Kenny Larkin,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Livin' Joy,
Agent Orange,
Dave Gahan,
The Star Department,
The Real Kids,
Amon Düül,
FM Einheit,
the Human League,
Lungfish,
Sonic Youth,
KRS-One,
Sarah Menescal,
Soft Machine,
Yaz,
Circle Jerks,
Swell Maps,
Tim Buckley,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Byron Stingily,
DJ Sneak,
Zero Boys,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Mary Jane Girls,
Eve St. Jones,
Pere Ubu,
Skaos,
Todd Terry,
Anakelly,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Isaac Hayes,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Warsaw,
Desert Stars,
Subhumans,
John Cale,
Wasted Youth,
CMW,
Adolescents,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Cymande,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Angels of Light,
The Fuzztones,
Lalann,
June Days,
Nico,
Gang Green,
Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson.
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.