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 Iceland and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Patti Smith to the disco 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 Wings. All the underground hits.
All Arab on Radar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tim Buckley record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a marimba 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 clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Techniques,
Barbara Tucker,
Scion,
Amon Düül II,
H. Thieme,
Lungfish,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Martian,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Lindisfarne,
The Misunderstood,
Spoonie Gee,
Skriet,
Delta 5,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Saccharine Trust,
The Skatalites,
Cymande,
Half Japanese,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Yaz,
D'Angelo,
Peter and Kerry,
Visage,
Ponytail,
Andrew Hill,
The Monochrome Set,
Darondo,
Brick,
Yusef Lateef,
Magma,
Bang On A Can,
Agitation Free,
Roger Hodgson,
The Slits,
Subhumans,
Judy Mowatt,
Morten Harket,
Fela Kuti,
Magazine,
Funkadelic,
R.M.O.,
Flamin' Groovies,
the Germs,
Ultra Naté,
Surgeon,
Sight & Sound,
Freddie Wadling,
Fear,
Basic Channel,
New York Dolls,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Dead Boys,
Tomorrow,
Eric B and Rakim,
Eric Dolphy,
The Barracudas,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Minny Pops,
the Soft Cell,
The Toasters,
June Days, June Days, June Days, June Days.
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.