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 Bhutan and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the guitar 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 Lungfish to the crunk 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 Cybotron. All the underground hits.
All Ultra Naté tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lebanon Hanover record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator 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 marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Infiniti,
David Bowie,
John Cale,
Radio Birdman,
Scratch Acid,
The Slits,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Das Ding,
Swans,
Interpol,
Moebius,
The Gladiators,
Spoonie Gee,
Electric Prunes,
Bush Tetras,
Chris Corsano,
Davy DMX,
Rapeman,
Inner City,
Neu!,
Cameo,
The Tremeloes,
New Age Steppers,
Animal Collective,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Pantytec,
Carl Craig,
Joyce Sims,
the Human League,
Scion,
Heaven 17,
Ronan,
Ten City,
Supertramp,
The Zeros,
Negative Approach,
The Dave Clark Five,
Harmonia,
Talk Talk,
Malaria!,
Ituana,
Bizarre Inc.,
Tropical Tobacco,
Kerrie Biddell,
the Slits,
Mark Hollis,
Guru Guru,
cv313,
The Raincoats,
Terrestrial Tones,
Nico,
Donald Byrd,
Hot Snakes,
The Monochrome Set,
Model 500,
Man Eating Sloth,
Joey Negro,
Adolescents,
Brass Construction,
Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs.
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.