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 Russia and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson to the techno 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 Soulsonic Force. All the underground hits.
All Wings tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Underground Resistance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a sitar 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 clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pere Ubu,
Mandrill,
Main Source,
the Association,
MDC,
Depeche Mode,
The Five Americans,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Monks,
Excepter,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
EPMD,
The Busters,
Faust,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lou Reed,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Sex Pistols,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Iggy Pop,
Roxette,
Drive Like Jehu,
Lower 48,
Warsaw,
Tim Buckley,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Amon Düül,
Tubeway Army,
The Leaves,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Malaria!,
Prince Buster,
Swans,
The Modern Lovers,
Funkadelic,
Lucky Dragons,
Dawn Penn,
The Star Department,
Au Pairs,
Blake Baxter,
Skaos,
Cal Tjader,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Pet Shop Boys,
Fad Gadget,
cv313,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Saints,
Flash Fearless,
Q and Not U,
Popol Vuh,
U.S. Maple,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Lalo Schifrin,
Negative Approach,
John Coltrane,
Warren Ellis,
Ronan,
Brick, Brick, Brick, Brick.
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.