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 Afghanistan and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the theremin 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 The Black Dice to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Soul Sonic Force. All the underground hits.
All Thompson Twins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Trumans Water record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron 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 chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Johnny Clarke,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Five Americans,
Funky Four + One,
Faraquet,
Delta 5,
Inner City,
Glambeats Corp.,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Slits,
Sex Pistols,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Mummies,
John Foxx,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Tomorrow,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Piero Umiliani,
Visage,
The Cramps,
Colin Newman,
L. Decosne,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Qualms,
The Blackbyrds,
Depeche Mode,
Hasil Adkins,
Banda Bassotti,
John Lydon,
Henry Cow,
The Dead C,
One Last Wish,
Tim Buckley,
The Stooges,
D'Angelo,
Godley & Creme,
Rapeman,
Ken Boothe,
Kenny Larkin,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Black Dice,
Gong,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Gerry Rafferty,
These Immortal Souls,
The Durutti Column,
Television,
Heaven 17,
Kurtis Blow,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Rekid,
Lou Reed,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Mojo Men,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Dead Boys,
The Grass Roots,
Masters at Work,
Stetsasonic,
The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood.
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.