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 Kyrgyzstan and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 snare 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 The Victims to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Warsaw. All the underground hits.
All Young Marble Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Kinks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 linndrum and an oboe 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 an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Flesh Eaters,
Grey Daturas,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Associates,
Skarface,
The Sonics,
Prince Buster,
The Motions,
Pylon,
Derrick Morgan,
F. McDonald,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Deadbeat,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Donny Hathaway,
Bobby Sherman,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
John Cale,
Young Marble Giants,
Newcleus,
Electric Prunes,
Sex Pistols,
Eric Dolphy,
the Fania All-Stars,
Lyres,
Dark Day,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Theoretical Girls,
Spandau Ballet,
Lou Reed,
Kayak,
The Selecter,
Oneida,
Frankie Knuckles,
Radiohead,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Franke,
R.M.O.,
Joe Smooth,
The Sound,
Jacques Brel,
Nik Kershaw,
Symarip,
Subhumans,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Happenings,
Babytalk,
Scion,
Nico,
Easy Going,
James White and The Blacks,
Amon Düül II,
Q and Not U,
D'Angelo,
Organ,
Roy Ayers,
Bootsy Collins,
Mo-Dettes,
Gil Scott Heron,
Cabaret Voltaire,
U.S. Maple,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Black Moon,
Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance.
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.