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 Bahamas and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Ultra Naté to the grime 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 Wings. All the underground hits.
All David McCallum tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeru the Damaja record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba 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 a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Golliwogs,
Groovy Waters,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Five Americans,
Throbbing Gristle,
the Fania All-Stars,
Ornette Coleman,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Delon & Dalcan,
Adolescents,
Fugazi,
Television,
Angry Samoans,
The Doors,
Flash Fearless,
The Wake,
Laurel Aitken,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Depeche Mode,
Arab on Radar,
Slick Rick,
New Age Steppers,
Pole,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Faraquet,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Maleditus Sound,
Minutemen,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Siglo XX,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Ultimate Spinach,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Fat Boys,
Colin Newman,
Skaos,
Model 500,
Ten City,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Blackbyrds,
B.T. Express,
Monks,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Bobby Womack,
Terrestrial Tones,
Easy Going,
Ralphi Rosario,
Joensuu 1685,
Prince Buster,
Pantytec,
Shoche,
Crispy Ambulance,
Tears for Fears,
Franke,
Deepchord,
The Cowsills,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
John Coltrane,
Rosa Yemen,
Severed Heads,
The Trojans,
Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust.
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.