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 Malawi and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 June of 44 to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Throbbing Gristle. All the underground hits.
All Sun City Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Duran Duran 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a snare 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 marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cheater Slicks,
Tom Boy,
Fatback Band,
Danielle Patucci,
Gabor Szabo,
Shuggie Otis,
X-102,
Section 25,
PIL,
Skarface,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Eddi Front,
Camouflage,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Pretty Things,
Glenn Branca,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Eric Dolphy,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Niagra,
The Real Kids,
Half Japanese,
Erasure,
Minnie Riperton,
Sex Pistols,
Mark Hollis,
Urselle,
The Cowsills,
Blake Baxter,
Spandau Ballet,
Main Source,
Ronnie Foster,
The Doors,
Bad Manners,
Organ,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Moleskins,
Oneida,
The Fugs,
The Saints,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Girls At Our Best!,
In Retrospect,
The Durutti Column,
The Seeds,
Con Funk Shun,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
David McCallum,
Visage,
Gang Starr,
Nico,
Heaven 17,
Television Personalities,
Alison Limerick,
Bill Near,
The Busters,
Robert Görl,
Tim Buckley,
Byron Stingily,
X-101,
the Germs, the Germs, the Germs, the Germs.
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.