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 Honduras and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and New York.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
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 Supertramp to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Sly & The Family Stone. All the underground hits.
All The Shadows of Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Qualms record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 linndrum and an arpeggiator 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 organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crooked Eye,
Subhumans,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Nico,
Sixth Finger,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
UT,
The Stooges,
Gabor Szabo,
The Selecter,
MC5,
the Fania All-Stars,
Rod Modell,
Funky Four + One,
Zapp,
Easy Going,
Bob Dylan,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Jawbox,
Gil Scott Heron,
June Days,
Hardrive,
Matthew Halsall,
Erykah Badu,
Peter and Kerry,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Danielle Patucci,
Judy Mowatt,
F. McDonald,
Soft Cell,
The Smoke,
Au Pairs,
Neu!,
Sam Rivers,
Supertramp,
The Fugs,
Deadbeat,
Pole,
Sarah Menescal,
Spoonie Gee,
Slick Rick,
Schoolly D,
Scott Walker,
Con Funk Shun,
The Residents,
Tomorrow,
Average White Band,
Franke,
the Association,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Iggy Pop,
Brass Construction,
New Age Steppers,
Mr. Review,
The Doors,
Swell Maps,
The Cowsills,
Harry Pussy,
Colin Newman,
The Vogues,
Scratch Acid,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Cure, The Cure, The Cure, The Cure.
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.