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 Ukraine and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Sao Paulo.
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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Goldenarms to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Pantaleimon. All the underground hits.
All The Vogues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Pus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet 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 spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Henry Cow,
The Monks,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Walker Brothers,
Barbara Tucker,
The Gun Club,
The Moleskins,
Warren Ellis,
Grauzone,
Symarip,
Ten City,
Drexciya,
Quando Quango,
Heaven 17,
Yusef Lateef,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Selecter,
Bronski Beat,
The J.B.'s,
Mars,
Lalann,
Ohio Players,
Gang Green,
Girls At Our Best!,
Bill Near,
The Sonics,
Delta 5,
Blossom Toes,
Can,
Niagra,
Kool Moe Dee,
Joensuu 1685,
the Germs,
James White and The Blacks,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Derrick May,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Sound,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Gang of Four,
Black Flag,
X-102,
The Dead C,
Easy Going,
Harry Pussy,
Tropical Tobacco,
Nation of Ulysses,
Connie Case,
Kerri Chandler,
The Barracudas,
The Fugs,
Fatback Band,
Soft Cell,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Aloha Tigers,
Gichy Dan,
Ponytail,
Simply Red,
Toni Rubio,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Intrusion,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Alarm Clocks,
Echospace, Echospace, Echospace, Echospace.
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.