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 East Timor and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 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 Severed Heads to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The J.B.'s. All the underground hits.
All Erykah Badu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sarah Menescal record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb 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 güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heaven 17,
The Motions,
Youth Brigade,
The Monochrome Set,
Gang of Four,
Inner City,
Ash Ra Tempel,
the Germs,
The Detroit Cobras,
Siglo XX,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Junior Murvin,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Hot Snakes,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
FM Einheit,
Circle Jerks,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Lalann,
The Busters,
The Flesh Eaters,
the Sonics,
Deepchord,
The Smoke,
Quadrant,
Kas Product,
Roy Ayers,
Intrusion,
Parry Music,
Girls At Our Best!,
Average White Band,
Dawn Penn,
Scott Walker,
Jeru the Damaja,
Erasure,
Dorothy Ashby,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Aaron Thompson,
Donald Byrd,
Arcadia,
Pylon,
Stiv Bators,
Crispy Ambulance,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Scratch Acid,
The Standells,
Hashim,
Easy Going,
Todd Terry,
Dave Gahan,
Scrapy,
Pierre Henry,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
F. McDonald,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
James White and The Blacks,
Blake Baxter,
The Index,
UT,
Crash Course in Science,
Pussy Galore,
Joyce Sims,
ABC,
Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control.
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.