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 Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Tommy Roe to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Lindisfarne. All the underground hits.
All Tubeway Army tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sonny Sharrock 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 snare 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 chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Public Enemy,
Marc Almond,
Terry Callier,
Bluetip,
10cc,
Nirvana,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Quantec,
Amon Düül II,
Tropical Tobacco,
Archie Shepp,
Cheater Slicks,
The Trojans,
Minor Threat,
Livin' Joy,
The Martian,
Monks,
Boredoms,
Scientists,
Juan Atkins,
The Young Rascals,
Eric B and Rakim,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Desert Stars,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Girls At Our Best!,
Technova,
the Swans,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Sound,
Sun Ra,
Crash Course in Science,
Peter & Gordon,
the Germs,
Lalo Schifrin,
8 Eyed Spy,
Slave,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Henry Cow,
The Happenings,
The Offenders,
Steve Hackett,
Warsaw,
Harpers Bizarre,
LL Cool J,
The Golliwogs,
Can,
The Toasters,
Clear Light,
Procol Harum,
Television,
The Monks,
Icehouse,
Skarface,
Parry Music,
Young Marble Giants,
Albert Ayler,
Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs.
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.