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 Belgium and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 oboe 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 Boz Scaggs to the grunge 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 Robert Hood. All the underground hits.
All The Toasters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ponytail 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ossler record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soft Machine,
Procol Harum,
Deadbeat,
The Cramps,
The Martian,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Rufus Thomas,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
the Normal,
Deakin,
Joensuu 1685,
Carl Craig,
Michelle Simonal,
Television,
Ossler,
Skriet,
Slick Rick,
Radiopuhelimet,
Robert Hood,
Wolf Eyes,
Howard Jones,
Faust,
Neu!,
Ultravox,
Clear Light,
Saccharine Trust,
Terry Callier,
Public Enemy,
The Standells,
Sällskapet,
Lyres,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Pere Ubu,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Bauhaus,
Angry Samoans,
Marc Almond,
Masters at Work,
Quando Quango,
Terrestrial Tones,
Newcleus,
Don Cherry,
Yazoo,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Wire,
Morten Harket,
Boogie Down Productions,
Anthony Braxton,
Desert Stars,
Ralphi Rosario,
Spandau Ballet,
The Slackers,
Echospace,
Skaos,
Y Pants,
Tomorrow,
Lalann,
The Invisible,
Rosa Yemen,
Connie Case,
Rotary Connection,
The Alarm Clocks,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Heaven 17,
Main Source, Main Source, Main Source, Main Source.
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.