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 Germany and from Toronto.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Depeche Mode to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band. All the underground hits.
All Piero Umiliani tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marshall Jefferson 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Public Enemy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glambeats Corp.,
Black Moon,
The Martian,
the Normal,
X-Ray Spex,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Flamin' Groovies,
ABBA,
Magazine,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Eric B and Rakim,
Loose Ends,
Carl Craig,
Dual Sessions,
Ice-T,
LL Cool J,
Bush Tetras,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Subhumans,
The Last Poets,
Basic Channel,
the Bar-Kays,
The Blackbyrds,
The Associates,
Brick,
X-101,
The Cure,
The Alarm Clocks,
Mantronix,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Fat Boys,
Dorothy Ashby,
Trumans Water,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Masters at Work,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Deadbeat,
Babytalk,
Man Parrish,
Black Flag,
Organ,
Moebius,
John Cale,
Adolescents,
Sex Pistols,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Lalann,
The Flesh Eaters,
Mary Jane Girls,
Swans,
Grey Daturas,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Henry Cow,
Janne Schatter,
The Doobie Brothers,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Alton Ellis,
Rekid,
Colin Newman,
Wings, Wings, Wings, Wings.
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.