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 Belize and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Neil Young & Crazy Horse to the techno 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 Echo & the Bunnymen. All the underground hits.
All Gregory Isaacs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Alarm Clocks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a sitar 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 snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Swell Maps,
A Certain Ratio,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Clear Light,
Barbara Tucker,
Flipper,
Q65,
Bush Tetras,
Donald Byrd,
Ronan,
The Slackers,
Derrick May,
Sight & Sound,
In Retrospect,
The American Breed,
Scratch Acid,
Japan,
Man Eating Sloth,
H. Thieme,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Boz Scaggs,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sonic Youth,
Lower 48,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Avey Tare,
Thee Headcoats,
Amon Düül II,
Supertramp,
Skaos,
Scott Walker,
Kaleidoscope,
Whodini,
Monolake,
Andrew Hill,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Gun Club,
the Fania All-Stars,
Easy Going,
Saccharine Trust,
Henry Cow,
Rosa Yemen,
The Fugs,
Goldenarms,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
K-Klass,
Severed Heads,
Con Funk Shun,
Man Parrish,
Gichy Dan,
The Slits,
Yazoo,
the Normal,
Public Enemy,
Eddi Front,
The Toasters,
Dark Day,
Swans,
Accadde A,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
48th St. Collective,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme.
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.