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 Marshall Islands and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 PIL. All the underground hits.
All U.S. Maple tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lafayette Afro Rock Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a güiro 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 marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Newcleus,
Sight & Sound,
Angry Samoans,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Harpers Bizarre,
Barrington Levy,
Scrapy,
Lebanon Hanover,
Anakelly,
Inner City,
Idris Muhammad,
Franke,
Easy Going,
Al Stewart,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Gladiators,
The Shadows of Knight,
Visage,
OOIOO,
Tommy Roe,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Scott Walker,
Nick Fraelich,
Tears for Fears,
Circle Jerks,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Eric Dolphy,
Laurel Aitken,
Deakin,
Jeru the Damaja,
Index,
Sex Pistols,
Sixth Finger,
Goldenarms,
a-ha,
Pierre Henry,
The Cramps,
Bronski Beat,
Mandrill,
Symarip,
Lou Christie,
Alton Ellis,
Lakeside,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Porter Ricks,
Mars,
The Names,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Angels of Light,
Juan Atkins,
Maleditus Sound,
Young Marble Giants,
Sun City Girls,
Sparks,
Mission of Burma,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Kurtis Blow,
Blossom Toes,
The Cure, The Cure, The Cure, The Cure.
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.