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 Kiribati and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 808 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 The Vogues to the electroclash 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 Essential Logic. All the underground hits.
All Angry Samoans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Echo & the Bunnymen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 guitar and a rhodes 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 harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bob Dylan,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Peter and Kerry,
Bobby Byrd,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Vladislav Delay,
the Human League,
Man Parrish,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Arcadia,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Sisters of Mercy,
PIL,
Jimmy McGriff,
Girls At Our Best!,
Spandau Ballet,
Funkadelic,
The Moleskins,
The Pretty Things,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Deakin,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Wasted Youth,
The Offenders,
Faust,
Nas,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Royal Trux,
The Cramps,
Lakeside,
Pierre Henry,
The Misunderstood,
Idris Muhammad,
Amon Düül II,
Rakim,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Accadde A,
The Alarm Clocks,
Sugar Minott,
Jeff Lynne,
Johnny Osbourne,
Gang Green,
The Count Five,
Iggy Pop,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Blake Baxter,
Alison Limerick,
The Detroit Cobras,
Delta 5,
Malaria!,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Whodini,
Kurtis Blow,
Bill Near,
Basic Channel,
Erykah Badu,
The Sonics,
Patti Smith,
Susan Cadogan,
Brick,
DJ Style,
The Victims, The Victims, The Victims, The Victims.
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.