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 Nigeria and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the marimba 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 The Index to the rock 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 A Flock of Seagulls. All the underground hits.
All Eric Copeland tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Slits record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a spring reverb 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 arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultimate Spinach,
Easy Going,
Tres Demented,
Letta Mbulu,
Rhythm & Sound,
Sun Ra,
MDC,
Tropical Tobacco,
Rapeman,
Isaac Hayes,
Public Enemy,
Interpol,
Graham Central Station,
Funky Four + One,
ABC,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Happenings,
Tommy Roe,
Stiv Bators,
Brothers Johnson,
Bush Tetras,
Shoche,
Roger Hodgson,
The Victims,
Aswad,
T.S.O.L.,
The Fuzztones,
Jacob Miller,
Buzzcocks,
Rotary Connection,
The Fortunes,
Ohio Players,
The Five Americans,
Reuben Wilson,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
AZ,
Rakim,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
John Coltrane,
Hasil Adkins,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Cowsills,
Blake Baxter,
Eden Ahbez,
Sonic Youth,
Rites of Spring,
Massinfluence,
Janne Schatter,
Siglo XX,
Khruangbin,
Pole,
Soft Machine,
Ralphi Rosario,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Dead C,
Blancmange,
Ken Boothe,
Anthony Braxton,
Guru Guru,
Organ,
The New Christs,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Chrome,
Cabaret Voltaire, Cabaret Voltaire, Cabaret Voltaire, Cabaret Voltaire.
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.