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 Tuvalu and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the sitar 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 Sex Pistols to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family. All the underground hits.
All Stockholm Monsters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Delta 5 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar 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 marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fifty Foot Hose,
Lalann,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Aloha Tigers,
Pet Shop Boys,
Inner City,
Bronski Beat,
John Foxx,
Unrelated Segments,
Joe Finger,
Ken Boothe,
Alice Coltrane,
Hot Snakes,
Prince Buster,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Move,
Soft Machine,
The Neon Judgement,
Erykah Badu,
Gong,
Index,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Monks,
The Mummies,
Bauhaus,
Kool Moe Dee,
Curtis Mayfield,
Bush Tetras,
Guru Guru,
Smog,
Groovy Waters,
The Mojo Men,
kango's stein massive,
Clear Light,
Laurel Aitken,
Black Sheep,
Derrick Morgan,
Electric Prunes,
Gang Gang Dance,
Alton Ellis,
Morten Harket,
Deakin,
Jacques Brel,
Pagans,
Ash Ra Tempel,
the Bar-Kays,
Sparks,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Flesh Eaters,
Radio Birdman,
Outsiders,
Sugar Minott,
Matthew Bourne,
Lindisfarne,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Grandmaster Flash,
E-Dancer,
Crispian St. Peters,
Faust,
Khruangbin,
Blake Baxter,
Lungfish,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx.
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.