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 New Zealand and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Wasted Youth. All the underground hits.
All Eddi Front tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The American Breed record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator 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 marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moss Icon,
T. Rex,
The Fire Engines,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Barracudas,
Newcleus,
Pantaleimon,
Harry Pussy,
Circle Jerks,
New York Dolls,
Von Mondo,
Junior Murvin,
The Fuzztones,
The Last Poets,
The United States of America,
Can,
Pierre Henry,
Drive Like Jehu,
Alice Coltrane,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Toni Rubio,
Essential Logic,
Peter & Gordon,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Rapeman,
Kas Product,
Gang Starr,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
the Association,
The Victims,
Joy Division,
The Searchers,
Piero Umiliani,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
cv313,
Scan 7,
Masters at Work,
Lalann,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Human League,
Television Personalities,
Agitation Free,
OOIOO,
Soul Sonic Force,
Barrington Levy,
MC5,
Godley & Creme,
Terry Callier,
Erykah Badu,
Wally Richardson,
Young Marble Giants,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Toasters,
The Stooges,
Cymande,
Popol Vuh,
Slick Rick,
The Wake, The Wake, The Wake, The Wake.
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.