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 Lithuania and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Ohio Players. All the underground hits.
All The Velvet Underground tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan 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 sitar and an organ 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 güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barry Ungar,
Brick,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
A Certain Ratio,
Mark Hollis,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Bobby Sherman,
Cameo,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Wolf Eyes,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Warren Ellis,
Robert Wyatt,
The Names,
Kool Moe Dee,
Ultravox,
Crooked Eye,
The Techniques,
Jawbox,
Drive Like Jehu,
Bob Dylan,
The Motions,
Robert Hood,
Neu!,
Grauzone,
Gang Starr,
The Count Five,
Dawn Penn,
Duran Duran,
Fort Wilson Riot,
FM Einheit,
Bill Wells,
Au Pairs,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Donald Byrd,
Traffic Nightmare,
Soft Machine,
The Victims,
Camouflage,
cv313,
Underground Resistance,
Bad Manners,
Inner City,
Y Pants,
Rakim,
the Fania All-Stars,
Adolescents,
The Tremeloes,
The Martian,
The Fortunes,
Bill Near,
Index,
The Detroit Cobras,
World's Most,
Chris Corsano,
Gabor Szabo,
Deepchord,
New Order,
Lower 48,
Chris & Cosey,
Kayak,
The New Christs,
Kaleidoscope,
EPMD, EPMD, EPMD, EPMD.
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.