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 Guyana and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 chamberlin 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 James White and The Blacks to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Mantronix. All the underground hits.
All Josef K tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terry Callier 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba 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 808 and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Erykah Badu,
Sixth Finger,
Rapeman,
Nick Fraelich,
Clear Light,
Pylon,
Bang On A Can,
a-ha,
David Axelrod,
Subhumans,
the Germs,
Excepter,
Warsaw,
Faust,
Tropical Tobacco,
Pantytec,
D'Angelo,
Organ,
Yellowson,
Severed Heads,
Aaron Thompson,
Robert Hood,
Marine Girls,
Hot Snakes,
Aswad,
Marshall Jefferson,
Livin' Joy,
The United States of America,
Cymande,
Harry Pussy,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Blake Baxter,
John Coltrane,
Crispy Ambulance,
Curtis Mayfield,
The J.B.'s,
Scion,
Terrestrial Tones,
Wasted Youth,
the Slits,
A Certain Ratio,
Albert Ayler,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Sonic Youth,
Nas,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
David Bowie,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Gastr Del Sol,
Cheater Slicks,
The Smoke,
Charles Mingus,
Soft Cell,
Glenn Branca,
Yazoo,
Susan Cadogan,
Agitation Free,
Jandek,
LL Cool J,
Gang of Four,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Pussy Galore,
Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood.
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.