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 Dominican Republic and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Barclay James Harvest to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Marc Almond. All the underground hits.
All Television Personalities tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Moleskins 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a sitar 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 güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mummies,
Monolake,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Cure,
Yellowson,
Cybotron,
Minor Threat,
Tommy Roe,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Franke,
The American Breed,
Thompson Twins,
Khruangbin,
Sonic Youth,
Essential Logic,
Sugar Minott,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Gastr Del Sol,
Average White Band,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Parry Music,
Icehouse,
Patti Smith,
Boz Scaggs,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Don Cherry,
the Soft Cell,
Subhumans,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The J.B.'s,
Gong,
Marine Girls,
The Martian,
The Searchers,
Neu!,
The Flesh Eaters,
Organ,
The Moleskins,
Kerri Chandler,
LL Cool J,
Mars,
Idris Muhammad,
Trumans Water,
The Knickerbockers,
Wally Richardson,
Duran Duran,
Agent Orange,
Eurythmics,
Skriet,
Black Pus,
Matthew Bourne,
DJ Sneak,
MDC,
The Stooges,
Con Funk Shun,
Can,
Max Romeo,
Scion,
Anthony Braxton,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Slackers,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo, Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo, Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo, Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo.
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.