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 Argentina and from Woodstock.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Chrome. All the underground hits.
All Kenny Larkin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Monks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oblivians record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Stooges,
Byron Stingily,
Organ,
Cecil Taylor,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Radiohead,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Pop Group,
Flipper,
Jacob Miller,
Gong,
Lindisfarne,
John Foxx,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Can,
Moby Grape,
Marcia Griffiths,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Moss Icon,
DJ Sneak,
Leonard Cohen,
Albert Ayler,
Minor Threat,
Carl Craig,
Colin Newman,
Ten City,
Nirvana,
Urselle,
Roger Hodgson,
The Star Department,
Gang Gang Dance,
In Retrospect,
Minutemen,
Aural Exciters,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Siglo XX,
This Heat,
Cal Tjader,
Quando Quango,
Lalann,
Warren Ellis,
Glenn Branca,
The Detroit Cobras,
T. Rex,
Shoche,
The Blackbyrds,
Barry Ungar,
Skriet,
Sex Pistols,
Parry Music,
The Associates,
Amon Düül,
Soft Machine,
Con Funk Shun,
Reagan Youth,
Joe Finger,
The Cowsills,
Soul II Soul,
Rod Modell,
Peter and Kerry,
Mandrill,
Alphaville, Alphaville, Alphaville, Alphaville.
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.