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 Sudan and from Edmonton.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Scan 7 to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Seeds. All the underground hits.
All Newcleus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barry Ungar record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 linndrum and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scientists record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Terrestrial Tones,
Graham Central Station,
The Electric Prunes,
Circle Jerks,
The Remains,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Gabor Szabo,
The Blackbyrds,
Camouflage,
Don Cherry,
China Crisis,
Ronan,
Masters at Work,
T.S.O.L.,
Kas Product,
Thee Headcoats,
The Buckinghams,
Monolake,
Suicide,
B.T. Express,
The Gories,
Slave,
Darondo,
Hardrive,
Crooked Eye,
Iggy Pop,
Carl Craig,
Avey Tare,
The Durutti Column,
The Moody Blues,
Faraquet,
The Dirtbombs,
Nik Kershaw,
Suburban Knight,
E-Dancer,
Sight & Sound,
T. Rex,
Q and Not U,
Sparks,
Quadrant,
Byron Stingily,
Sällskapet,
Can,
Buzzcocks,
Peter & Gordon,
The Zeros,
John Coltrane,
Soul Sonic Force,
Derrick May,
Mission of Burma,
X-101,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
AZ,
Pet Shop Boys,
Inner City,
L. Decosne,
Henry Cow,
Soulsonic Force,
Traffic Nightmare,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Motorama, Motorama, Motorama, Motorama.
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.