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 Haiti and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Terrestrial Tones to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Gang Gang Dance. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe 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 snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Intrusion,
Bill Wells,
Model 500,
Ronan,
One Last Wish,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Stetsasonic,
R.M.O.,
Bootsy Collins,
Mission of Burma,
Pet Shop Boys,
X-102,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
48th St. Collective,
Duran Duran,
Gastr Del Sol,
Icehouse,
Eric B and Rakim,
Gang Green,
The Index,
the Swans,
Bobby Womack,
Malaria!,
Crispy Ambulance,
Con Funk Shun,
Eli Mardock,
The Sound,
ABC,
Yellowson,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
K-Klass,
Flipper,
Jacob Miller,
The Five Americans,
Jerry's Kids,
Slick Rick,
Sight & Sound,
Grauzone,
The Pop Group,
New Order,
The Slits,
Cymande,
The Doors,
Warsaw,
Matthew Halsall,
Nas,
Michelle Simonal,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Cybotron,
Aaron Thompson,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Rapeman,
Black Flag,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ossler,
Crash Course in Science,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Curtis Mayfield,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke.
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.