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 Iran and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the marimba 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 Kenny Larkin to the disco 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 The Raincoats. All the underground hits.
All Dorothy Ashby tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Parrish 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a marimba 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 guitar and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flipper,
Gabor Szabo,
Bill Near,
Althea and Donna,
The Tremeloes,
The Golliwogs,
Little Man,
Glambeats Corp.,
Chrome,
Bang On A Can,
Barclay James Harvest,
Rotary Connection,
Porter Ricks,
Nirvana,
The Grass Roots,
Nico,
Stockholm Monsters,
Glenn Branca,
Matthew Halsall,
Flamin' Groovies,
DJ Sneak,
Matthew Bourne,
Davy DMX,
Ronan,
Gastr Del Sol,
JFA,
Yazoo,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Blackbyrds,
Yaz,
Crooked Eye,
New York Dolls,
Organ,
Big Daddy Kane,
Iggy Pop,
Mars,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Wasted Youth,
T.S.O.L.,
The Leaves,
Suburban Knight,
Jerry's Kids,
Freddie Wadling,
David Axelrod,
Khruangbin,
Marc Almond,
The Sound,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Cameo,
Donald Byrd,
Peter & Gordon,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Underground Resistance,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Divine Comedy,
Faust,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Magma,
Barbara Tucker,
Rapeman,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
the Sonics,
Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike.
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.