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 Burkina and from Taipei.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 linndrum 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 Lee Hazlewood to the crunk 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 L. Decosne. All the underground hits.
All The Gladiators tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
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 Nico record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moebius,
Amon Düül,
Janne Schatter,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Arab on Radar,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Smoke,
Lee Hazlewood,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Jeff Lynne,
Pantaleimon,
Robert Hood,
Simply Red,
Theoretical Girls,
Visage,
Dual Sessions,
Aaron Thompson,
Urselle,
The Gun Club,
Aloha Tigers,
The Blackbyrds,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
It's A Beautiful Day,
B.T. Express,
Mandrill,
Jerry's Kids,
John Coltrane,
Monolake,
Technova,
Marc Almond,
Traffic Nightmare,
Slick Rick,
Ultravox,
Khruangbin,
The Move,
Wolf Eyes,
Metal Thangz,
Kaleidoscope,
Lalo Schifrin,
Bobby Womack,
Pantytec,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Pulsallama,
Reuben Wilson,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Dorothy Ashby,
Anthony Braxton,
Scion,
The Victims,
Davy DMX,
Depeche Mode,
The American Breed,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Porter Ricks,
Marshall Jefferson,
Qualms, Qualms, Qualms, Qualms.
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.