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 Romania and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 David Axelrod to the grunge 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 Sun City Girls. All the underground hits.
All The Dirtbombs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobbi Humphrey record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 a marimba 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 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Kinks,
The Busters,
The Real Kids,
Joe Finger,
Alphaville,
Traffic Nightmare,
Charles Mingus,
Al Stewart,
Rosa Yemen,
Whodini,
Yaz,
ABC,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Doobie Brothers,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Bad Manners,
Ponytail,
Terrestrial Tones,
Kerri Chandler,
Ituana,
Cameo,
The Evens,
Spoonie Gee,
a-ha,
Black Bananas,
Q65,
The Sound,
The Walker Brothers,
Stereo Dub,
Archie Shepp,
The Techniques,
the Germs,
Ultimate Spinach,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Wasted Youth,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Roxette,
Cabaret Voltaire,
David Axelrod,
Tears for Fears,
Shoche,
Joy Division,
Ten City,
Maurizio,
Soul Sonic Force,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Public Enemy,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Barbara Tucker,
Technova,
Easy Going,
The Misunderstood,
Scion,
MC5,
Sexual Harrassment,
Au Pairs,
Harmonia,
Frankie Knuckles,
Steve Hackett,
Sugar Minott,
The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues.
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.