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 Oman and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Shadows of Knight to the rap 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 Letta Mbulu. All the underground hits.
All Pussy Galore tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a theremin 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 clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Star Department,
Chris Corsano,
Hoover,
UT,
Patti Smith,
Nick Fraelich,
The Evens,
Von Mondo,
Alphaville,
Maleditus Sound,
The Gladiators,
Fatback Band,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Five Americans,
The Golliwogs,
Howard Jones,
Model 500,
Rosa Yemen,
Youth Brigade,
Suicide,
The Doobie Brothers,
Hashim,
Lou Christie,
Grey Daturas,
Accadde A,
The Modern Lovers,
Wire,
Country Teasers,
Erykah Badu,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Ohio Players,
Dual Sessions,
Terry Callier,
Cheater Slicks,
Avey Tare,
Crime,
Boogie Down Productions,
Gastr Del Sol,
Nas,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Pretty Things,
The Mummies,
The Techniques,
This Heat,
Chrome,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Monks,
X-102,
Barclay James Harvest,
Unwound,
Intrusion,
The Smiths,
Amon Düül II,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Lucky Dragons,
Faraquet,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Moss Icon,
Jawbox,
Curtis Mayfield,
Johnny Osbourne,
Echospace,
Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté.
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.