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 Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Liliput to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Robert Wyatt. All the underground hits.
All Nils Olav tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Easy Going 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a synthesizer 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 linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum 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 Fuzztones,
Bobby Womack,
Erykah Badu,
Fear,
Rod Modell,
Letta Mbulu,
Mark Hollis,
Ken Boothe,
Ultimate Spinach,
Jesper Dahlback,
X-Ray Spex,
Robert Wyatt,
kango's stein massive,
June of 44,
Swell Maps,
Sandy B,
Deakin,
Zero Boys,
Crispy Ambulance,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Faust,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Barclay James Harvest,
Buzzcocks,
Depeche Mode,
Amazonics,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Toasters,
The Dirtbombs,
Magazine,
Sight & Sound,
Scratch Acid,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Dead Boys,
Maurizio,
the Human League,
Cecil Taylor,
Excepter,
David Axelrod,
The New Christs,
Unwound,
The Smiths,
Roy Ayers,
Flash Fearless,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Erasure,
The Vogues,
Pierre Henry,
Pulsallama,
Stockholm Monsters,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Monochrome Set,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Leonard Cohen,
Minnie Riperton,
Bauhaus,
John Foxx,
Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now.
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.