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 Macedonia and from Toronto.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson to the rap 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 New Order. All the underground hits.
All Saccharine Trust tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Flag 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 an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moss Icon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kayak,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Hot Snakes,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Lower 48,
Bobby Byrd,
The Fire Engines,
The Human League,
CMW,
Scan 7,
Supertramp,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Sound,
Tres Demented,
Severed Heads,
Sandy B,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Eve St. Jones,
Prince Buster,
Wolf Eyes,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Lindisfarne,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Lucky Dragons,
Franke,
Y Pants,
Arab on Radar,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Angry Samoans,
Symarip,
JFA,
Arthur Verocai,
Siglo XX,
Bizarre Inc.,
Brand Nubian,
Nation of Ulysses,
Crash Course in Science,
Tom Boy,
Robert Wyatt,
Roxy Music,
the Germs,
Thee Headcoats,
Lalann,
Girls At Our Best!,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Ice-T,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Bush Tetras,
Ossler,
Crispy Ambulance,
Mars,
Camouflage,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Birthday Party,
The Slackers,
La Düsseldorf,
Warsaw,
Gang of Four,
Hasil Adkins,
Rotary Connection,
Negative Approach,
The Velvet Underground,
The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column.
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.