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 Ivory Coast and from Manchester.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 The Barracudas to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Stockholm Monsters. All the underground hits.
All Simply Red tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bootsy's Rubber Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a mellotron 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 organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Don Cherry,
China Crisis,
Skarface,
The American Breed,
The Flesh Eaters,
Throbbing Gristle,
World's Most,
Ultra Naté,
Visage,
Piero Umiliani,
Robert Wyatt,
David Bowie,
a-ha,
Ultravox,
Suburban Knight,
Lightning Bolt,
Radiohead,
Quadrant,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Mojo Men,
The Cramps,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Japan,
New York Dolls,
R.M.O.,
Junior Murvin,
Glambeats Corp.,
Malaria!,
Skriet,
Can,
Bobby Womack,
Public Image Ltd.,
John Lydon,
Oblivians,
John Coltrane,
The Selecter,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Alison Limerick,
Barbara Tucker,
The Shadows of Knight,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Magazine,
La Düsseldorf,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Yusef Lateef,
Fear,
The Invisible,
Fatback Band,
Arthur Verocai,
Derrick May,
The Dead C,
The Smoke,
Ponytail,
Bad Manners,
ABBA,
Reagan Youth,
Minny Pops,
Thee Headcoats,
X-Ray Spex,
Marc Almond,
Lalann,
Janne Schatter, Janne Schatter, Janne Schatter, Janne Schatter.
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.