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 Spain and from Cairo.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Woodstock.
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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Cecil Taylor to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Unrelated Segments. All the underground hits.
All The Techniques tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gian Franco Pienzio record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a marimba 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 linndrum and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Young Marble Giants,
The Raincoats,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Pere Ubu,
X-102,
Marc Almond,
Crispy Ambulance,
Country Teasers,
Simply Red,
Grandmaster Flash,
Johnny Osbourne,
Von Mondo,
David Bowie,
Gabor Szabo,
Ponytail,
the Bar-Kays,
Can,
Half Japanese,
Lungfish,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Patti Smith,
Toni Rubio,
The Seeds,
New York Dolls,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Bauhaus,
Moby Grape,
One Last Wish,
Lakeside,
The Fugs,
Kayak,
Sun Ra,
Aswad,
Bush Tetras,
The Dave Clark Five,
Traffic Nightmare,
Cheater Slicks,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Idris Muhammad,
Parry Music,
The Star Department,
Suburban Knight,
The Gories,
UT,
Peter and Kerry,
The Golliwogs,
Freddie Wadling,
Avey Tare,
Sex Pistols,
Bang On A Can,
Y Pants,
Slick Rick,
Alton Ellis,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Procol Harum,
Joyce Sims,
Harmonia,
The Alarm Clocks,
Pagans,
Terrestrial Tones,
Minny Pops,
John Lydon,
The Young Rascals,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
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.