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 San Marino and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Henry Cow to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Amon Düül. All the underground hits.
All Thee Headcoats tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siouxsie and the Banshees 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 sitar and a 808 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 a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magma,
Niagra,
The Searchers,
Deakin,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Ludus,
the Sonics,
Agitation Free,
Khruangbin,
Can,
Second Layer,
The Blackbyrds,
Gang Green,
Aural Exciters,
Surgeon,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Dave Gahan,
Johnny Osbourne,
Pet Shop Boys,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Black Bananas,
Lungfish,
Fatback Band,
Mantronix,
Fugazi,
Delon & Dalcan,
Bill Near,
Cal Tjader,
Mars,
Smog,
Arcadia,
Stockholm Monsters,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Electric Prunes,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Ultra Naté,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Audionom,
Desert Stars,
Quantec,
Mad Mike,
The Blues Magoos,
Crispy Ambulance,
Parry Music,
Panda Bear,
Tropical Tobacco,
Byron Stingily,
Minny Pops,
Susan Cadogan,
Inner City,
Amon Düül II,
Soul Sonic Force,
Joy Division,
Thompson Twins,
Newcleus,
Rosa Yemen,
the Swans,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Bronski Beat,
Jerry's Kids,
New York Dolls,
Funkadelic,
Icehouse,
Eddi Front, Eddi Front, Eddi Front, Eddi Front.
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.