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 India and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Joy Division to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 T. Rex. All the underground hits.
All Crispian St. Peters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-101 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a synthesizer 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 harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flipper,
The Dead C,
Mandrill,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Neil Young,
Outsiders,
The Litter,
X-Ray Spex,
Urselle,
These Immortal Souls,
FM Einheit,
Barclay James Harvest,
Sly & The Family Stone,
One Last Wish,
Fela Kuti,
Wire,
Popol Vuh,
Scott Walker,
Kurtis Blow,
Animal Collective,
Lindisfarne,
Dark Day,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Heaven 17,
Guru Guru,
Reagan Youth,
Al Stewart,
The Trojans,
The Pretty Things,
Barbara Tucker,
Moebius,
Gang of Four,
Glambeats Corp.,
Gerry Rafferty,
Mr. Review,
Slave,
Bizarre Inc.,
Minny Pops,
John Holt,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Neu!,
Reuben Wilson,
The Dave Clark Five,
Adolescents,
UT,
Letta Mbulu,
Moss Icon,
Big Daddy Kane,
Erykah Badu,
Todd Rundgren,
Pierre Henry,
Black Pus,
Radio Birdman,
Sam Rivers,
Sound Behaviour,
The Beau Brummels,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Techniques,
Bill Near,
Technova,
Barry Ungar,
Marshall Jefferson,
Excepter, Excepter, Excepter, Excepter.
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.