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 Australia and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the sitar 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 Peter & Gordon to the funk 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 8 Eyed Spy. All the underground hits.
All Sonic Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sisters of Mercy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a rhodes 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 arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lakeside,
Black Moon,
Minnie Riperton,
Clear Light,
Joey Negro,
Judy Mowatt,
The Human League,
June of 44,
Pagans,
Moebius,
Sunsets and Hearts,
New York Dolls,
Flash Fearless,
Black Flag,
Frankie Knuckles,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Dirtbombs,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Skatalites,
The Divine Comedy,
Gerry Rafferty,
Mo-Dettes,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Star Department,
The Five Americans,
The Sonics,
The Monks,
Anthony Braxton,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Jimmy McGriff,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Slick Rick,
Television Personalities,
Joyce Sims,
10cc,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Harry Pussy,
The Remains,
Stockholm Monsters,
Yellowson,
The Barracudas,
Royal Trux,
Alison Limerick,
Cal Tjader,
World's Most,
Josef K,
Pantaleimon,
The Real Kids,
Dead Boys,
Kerri Chandler,
The Flesh Eaters,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Kurtis Blow,
Bush Tetras,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Surgeon,
Suicide,
Barclay James Harvest,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane.
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.