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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Judy Mowatt to the techno 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 Sound Behaviour. All the underground hits.
All The Cowsills tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fugs 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a spring reverb 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 clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jacques Brel,
The Slits,
The Sound,
Marvin Gaye,
The Index,
Darondo,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Dave Clark Five,
Buzzcocks,
The United States of America,
Reagan Youth,
Sällskapet,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Remains,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Pylon,
Eve St. Jones,
Can,
The Victims,
Joe Smooth,
The Monochrome Set,
Robert Görl,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Grey Daturas,
Dual Sessions,
Quadrant,
Heaven 17,
Joensuu 1685,
Essential Logic,
Sam Rivers,
Magazine,
The Invisible,
Minor Threat,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Trumans Water,
the Bar-Kays,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Electric Prunes,
This Heat,
T.S.O.L.,
The Neon Judgement,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Vogues,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Iggy Pop,
Altered Images,
Scion,
Infiniti,
The Mojo Men,
Lalo Schifrin,
Swans,
The Gladiators,
Deadbeat,
Accadde A,
Echospace,
Cecil Taylor,
X-101,
Theoretical Girls,
Aaron Thompson,
The Cowsills,
David Axelrod,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids.
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.