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 Mongolia and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Houston.
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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the güiro 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 It's A Beautiful Day to the grunge 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 Blancmange. All the underground hits.
All Patti Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barbara Tucker 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a sitar 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 clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soul Sonic Force,
Danielle Patucci,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Jerry's Kids,
Jimmy McGriff,
Marshall Jefferson,
Sam Rivers,
Sarah Menescal,
Morten Harket,
The Cure,
The J.B.'s,
Aswad,
The Litter,
Frankie Knuckles,
Bizarre Inc.,
Joey Negro,
Second Layer,
KRS-One,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Girls At Our Best!,
Gerry Rafferty,
Letta Mbulu,
Sparks,
The Happenings,
Pharoah Sanders,
Rakim,
Man Eating Sloth,
EPMD,
The Count Five,
MC5,
Crispy Ambulance,
Gong,
Byron Stingily,
Lungfish,
Television Personalities,
Suburban Knight,
The Dirtbombs,
UT,
Interpol,
Fear,
Trumans Water,
Thee Headcoats,
The Gories,
The Misunderstood,
Rod Modell,
Archie Shepp,
T. Rex,
Rotary Connection,
Reagan Youth,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Birthday Party,
Subhumans,
Underground Resistance,
Bobby Sherman,
Robert Görl,
Zero Boys,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Inner City,
Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis.
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.