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 China and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Eli Mardock to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Strawberry Alarm Clock. All the underground hits.
All Flamin' Groovies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every FM Einheit record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 clarinet and an oboe 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 rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fuzztones,
Wasted Youth,
Bang On A Can,
The Evens,
Pylon,
LL Cool J,
Pole,
The Walker Brothers,
Loose Ends,
Traffic Nightmare,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Moebius,
The Residents,
The Birthday Party,
Aloha Tigers,
UT,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Throbbing Gristle,
Jeff Lynne,
Das Ding,
La Düsseldorf,
Cecil Taylor,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Newcleus,
Reuben Wilson,
The United States of America,
Brothers Johnson,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Toasters,
F. McDonald,
Mary Jane Girls,
Rites of Spring,
Angry Samoans,
Joyce Sims,
Donny Hathaway,
David Bowie,
Shoche,
Godley & Creme,
Desert Stars,
Deepchord,
Rod Modell,
X-102,
World's Most,
Masters at Work,
Kerrie Biddell,
OOIOO,
Joy Division,
The Durutti Column,
Infiniti,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Ice-T,
PIL,
New Age Steppers,
Marcia Griffiths,
Letta Mbulu,
The Standells,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Dave Clark Five,
Chrome,
Jesper Dahlback,
Gregory Isaacs,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Blues Magoos,
Monolake, Monolake, Monolake, Monolake.
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.