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 Mauritania and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Divine Comedy to the electroclash 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 Con Funk Shun. All the underground hits.
All Banda Bassotti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eve St. Jones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum 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 harpsichord and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Litter,
Gil Scott Heron,
Boredoms,
The Happenings,
Kaleidoscope,
Gang Starr,
James Chance & The Contortions,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Wake,
Black Moon,
The Mummies,
The United States of America,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
One Last Wish,
The Dirtbombs,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Harpers Bizarre,
Danielle Patucci,
The Buckinghams,
Pylon,
Albert Ayler,
the Sonics,
T. Rex,
Vladislav Delay,
Mo-Dettes,
Visage,
Technova,
Youth Brigade,
Althea and Donna,
Ultravox,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Detroit Cobras,
Harry Pussy,
Bobby Womack,
The Electric Prunes,
Con Funk Shun,
The Selecter,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Piero Umiliani,
Throbbing Gristle,
Idris Muhammad,
The Raincoats,
Lucky Dragons,
Janne Schatter,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Lalo Schifrin,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
OOIOO,
Drexciya,
Babytalk,
June of 44,
Sun City Girls,
Camberwell Now,
Bang On A Can,
Ludus,
Black Sheep,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Cluster,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Music Machine,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone.
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.