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 Kiribati and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 KRS-One to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Kaleidoscope. All the underground hits.
All Young Marble Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barclay James Harvest record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 güiro and a theremin 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 oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harmonia,
Public Enemy,
The Gladiators,
John Holt,
Suicide,
H. Thieme,
Alison Limerick,
Mary Jane Girls,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Rakim,
Country Teasers,
Boz Scaggs,
The Invisible,
48th St. Collective,
Radio Birdman,
Arcadia,
Rites of Spring,
Bobby Byrd,
Ronan,
Masters at Work,
Graham Central Station,
The Birthday Party,
Roxette,
Blancmange,
Throbbing Gristle,
Au Pairs,
Traffic Nightmare,
8 Eyed Spy,
Donald Byrd,
The Grass Roots,
Buzzcocks,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Trojans,
The Zeros,
Anthony Braxton,
Bill Near,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Music Machine,
Half Japanese,
DJ Sneak,
Black Sheep,
Television,
Yazoo,
The Gun Club,
Marine Girls,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Man Eating Sloth,
K-Klass,
Talk Talk,
Max Romeo,
Bauhaus,
The Smoke,
Godley & Creme,
Kevin Saunderson,
Essential Logic,
Sandy B,
Simply Red,
B.T. Express,
Dual Sessions,
Wire,
Babytalk,
Brick,
Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller.
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.