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 Turkey and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Toni Rubio to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron. All the underground hits.
All Tropical Tobacco tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cybotron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 chamberlin and a mellotron 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 harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barry Ungar,
Colin Newman,
Dual Sessions,
Pussy Galore,
Deepchord,
Joe Smooth,
Sister Nancy,
Kenny Larkin,
Outsiders,
Janne Schatter,
Nico,
Jimmy McGriff,
Marmalade,
Barrington Levy,
Half Japanese,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Sixth Finger,
Angry Samoans,
Pylon,
Todd Rundgren,
Agent Orange,
K-Klass,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Magma,
T.S.O.L.,
Flamin' Groovies,
Babytalk,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Slits,
Theoretical Girls,
Jesper Dahlback,
Rotary Connection,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Isaac Hayes,
Eurythmics,
Supertramp,
Chrome,
Bob Dylan,
Pulsallama,
Stiv Bators,
The Doors,
Rosa Yemen,
Ponytail,
Neil Young,
Pere Ubu,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Fatback Band,
The Index,
Gabor Szabo,
UT,
Bobby Sherman,
Harry Pussy,
Soft Machine,
Davy DMX,
Masters at Work,
The Zeros,
Underground Resistance,
KRS-One,
Donald Byrd,
AZ,
Cheater Slicks,
Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms.
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.