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 Uzbekistan and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Cheater Slicks to the grime 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 The Divine Comedy. All the underground hits.
All Sister Nancy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Unwound 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a harpsichord 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 sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Busters,
Buzzcocks,
the Germs,
B.T. Express,
Wasted Youth,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Barry Ungar,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Franke,
Maleditus Sound,
PIL,
Joensuu 1685,
The Standells,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The J.B.'s,
The Pop Group,
Patti Smith,
Robert Hood,
F. McDonald,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Unrelated Segments,
Al Stewart,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Leaves,
Ultimate Spinach,
Kurtis Blow,
Sonic Youth,
Gil Scott Heron,
Skarface,
Todd Rundgren,
Television Personalities,
The Misunderstood,
Cybotron,
Rosa Yemen,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Skatalites,
Lyres,
The Flesh Eaters,
Masters at Work,
Spoonie Gee,
Soft Cell,
Minny Pops,
D'Angelo,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Mandrill,
Index,
Symarip,
Archie Shepp,
Severed Heads,
Dave Gahan,
OOIOO,
Visage,
The Smiths,
Eve St. Jones,
The Saints,
Panda Bear,
The Gladiators,
Lalann,
DJ Sneak,
David McCallum,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud, Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud, Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud, Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud.
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.