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 Denmark and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Angry Samoans to the disco 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 Delon & Dalcan. All the underground hits.
All Sun City Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispian St. Peters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator 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 harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chris & Cosey,
Ken Boothe,
Matthew Halsall,
Nick Fraelich,
Yazoo,
Bad Manners,
Siglo XX,
The Modern Lovers,
The Index,
Ultimate Spinach,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Soft Machine,
The Red Krayola,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Real Kids,
Maleditus Sound,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Alarm Clocks,
Stiv Bators,
The Victims,
The Monochrome Set,
Reagan Youth,
K-Klass,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Brand Nubian,
Franke,
The Birthday Party,
Ludus,
Scion,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Organ,
Traffic Nightmare,
Kenny Larkin,
Cameo,
The Smoke,
Derrick May,
Colin Newman,
Easy Going,
Hot Snakes,
Grandmaster Flash,
Technova,
A Certain Ratio,
Hashim,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Rotary Connection,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Masters at Work,
Lyres,
Y Pants,
Pussy Galore,
Lakeside,
Section 25,
London Community Gospel Choir,
John Cale,
Animal Collective,
Tomorrow,
Zero Boys,
Unrelated Segments,
Ornette Coleman,
Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne.
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.