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 Chad and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the güiro 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 Eric B and Rakim to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine. All the underground hits.
All The Five Americans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Shuggie Otis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an organ 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 spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Smoke,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
T.S.O.L.,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Altered Images,
Sonny Sharrock,
Severed Heads,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Unrelated Segments,
Shoche,
Arthur Verocai,
Black Bananas,
Livin' Joy,
Throbbing Gristle,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Surgeon,
The Cowsills,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
David McCallum,
David Axelrod,
Masters at Work,
Stockholm Monsters,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Wire,
Judy Mowatt,
8 Eyed Spy,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Negative Approach,
Freddie Wadling,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
X-Ray Spex,
The Toasters,
Erasure,
ABC,
Sonic Youth,
Sex Pistols,
The Music Machine,
Joyce Sims,
Black Moon,
The Offenders,
New York Dolls,
Big Daddy Kane,
The New Christs,
Hashim,
Brand Nubian,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sun Ra,
New Age Steppers,
Model 500,
Oneida,
Sugar Minott,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Electric Prunes,
Bob Dylan,
Dave Gahan,
Gerry Rafferty,
Mandrill,
D'Angelo,
John Holt,
Nico, Nico, Nico, Nico.
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.