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 Kuwait and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Eddi Front to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Jesper Dahlback. All the underground hits.
All B.T. Express tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flamin' Groovies record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a güiro 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 rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tears for Fears,
Skaos,
Amazonics,
Lower 48,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Glenn Branca,
Gong,
Terrestrial Tones,
Tom Boy,
Maleditus Sound,
World's Most,
Sly & The Family Stone,
10cc,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Nils Olav,
Parry Music,
Chrome,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Beau Brummels,
Severed Heads,
The Fugs,
Bobby Womack,
The Mummies,
Moby Grape,
U.S. Maple,
Jesper Dahlback,
Q and Not U,
Das Ding,
The Smiths,
Blake Baxter,
La Düsseldorf,
Grey Daturas,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Techniques,
Pole,
Supertramp,
Ultra Naté,
Kerri Chandler,
Porter Ricks,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Sun Ra,
The Blues Magoos,
Soft Cell,
The Barracudas,
Tommy Roe,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Suicide,
Scion,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Flesh Eaters,
Gabor Szabo,
The Monks,
Kerrie Biddell,
Kool Moe Dee,
John Cale,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Jandek,
Susan Cadogan,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Graham Central Station,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Donald Byrd,
Man Eating Sloth,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel.
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.