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 Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Eve St. Jones to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Standells. All the underground hits.
All Morten Harket tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flamin' Groovies record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a rhodes 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 organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
E-Dancer,
Vainqueur,
Tim Buckley,
Erykah Badu,
Lee Hazlewood,
Ludus,
48th St. Collective,
Lebanon Hanover,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Slave,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Soulsonic Force,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Sexual Harrassment,
Vladislav Delay,
David Bowie,
Alton Ellis,
The Techniques,
Lucky Dragons,
Half Japanese,
These Immortal Souls,
Supertramp,
Eden Ahbez,
Zero Boys,
Magazine,
Maurizio,
Eve St. Jones,
a-ha,
Gang Green,
F. McDonald,
Hasil Adkins,
Michelle Simonal,
The Selecter,
Ornette Coleman,
8 Eyed Spy,
Bauhaus,
Mr. Review,
Moebius,
The Standells,
Glambeats Corp.,
Lou Christie,
Bobby Womack,
Al Stewart,
Mad Mike,
Brick,
Laurel Aitken,
Pole,
The Smiths,
This Heat,
Ultravox,
Cheater Slicks,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Kayak,
The Music Machine,
the Fania All-Stars,
Zapp,
Robert Görl,
Nils Olav,
Flash Fearless,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Victims,
Fad Gadget,
The Barracudas, The Barracudas, The Barracudas, The Barracudas.
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.