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 Singapore and from Toronto.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Milan.
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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes 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 The Index to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Men They Couldn't Hang. All the underground hits.
All The Victims tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Selector Dub Narcotic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator 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 rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Johnny Osbourne,
Jawbox,
R.M.O.,
Bronski Beat,
The Monochrome Set,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Aural Exciters,
Severed Heads,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Minny Pops,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
U.S. Maple,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Cheater Slicks,
The Dirtbombs,
Maleditus Sound,
Scott Walker,
Bobby Womack,
Wolf Eyes,
Monks,
Jeff Mills,
Grauzone,
Rapeman,
Bush Tetras,
Dead Boys,
Animal Collective,
Radio Birdman,
The Gories,
Masters at Work,
Lakeside,
Minnie Riperton,
Roy Ayers,
Pylon,
The Birthday Party,
Pierre Henry,
the Soft Cell,
Icehouse,
Derrick Morgan,
Lightning Bolt,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Hot Snakes,
The Durutti Column,
Sällskapet,
Slick Rick,
Eli Mardock,
The Index,
The Barracudas,
Brand Nubian,
Black Pus,
Idris Muhammad,
The Doors,
Circle Jerks,
Gerry Rafferty,
Gang of Four,
The Associates,
Rufus Thomas,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Funkadelic,
Amon Düül II,
Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion.
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.