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 Sweden and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Robert Wyatt to the electroclash 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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux. All the underground hits.
All Roger Hodgson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The American Breed record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
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 harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Groovy Waters,
The Cowsills,
The Stooges,
Amazonics,
Bobby Womack,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Eve St. Jones,
The Names,
The Seeds,
Crash Course in Science,
Visage,
Zapp,
John Coltrane,
T. Rex,
Fatback Band,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Public Enemy,
Dead Boys,
the Germs,
Jesper Dahlback,
Ultravox,
MDC,
Glenn Branca,
8 Eyed Spy,
Donald Byrd,
The Music Machine,
Thee Headcoats,
Godley & Creme,
B.T. Express,
Trumans Water,
Aaron Thompson,
Deepchord,
Fat Boys,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Absolute Body Control,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Nirvana,
Nik Kershaw,
Vainqueur,
Talk Talk,
Robert Wyatt,
Quadrant,
Ronan,
Albert Ayler,
Marshall Jefferson,
Ohio Players,
Rites of Spring,
The Smiths,
Pylon,
The Gap Band,
Motorama,
Pantaleimon,
Hoover,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
June Days,
Susan Cadogan,
Gong,
Neu!,
Lee Hazlewood,
Electric Light Orchestra,
DJ Style,
Ultra Naté,
Henry Cow,
Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat.
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.