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 Congo and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in 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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the sitar 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 The Dirtbombs to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Neil Young. All the underground hits.
All Rekid tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ornette Coleman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 clarinet and a harpsichord 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 synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rosa Yemen,
MDC,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Boz Scaggs,
The Happenings,
La Düsseldorf,
The Litter,
The Walker Brothers,
Cymande,
Heaven 17,
Camouflage,
Dorothy Ashby,
Scott Walker,
The Selecter,
Nik Kershaw,
Ten City,
the Swans,
Delon & Dalcan,
Marmalade,
Soul II Soul,
The Durutti Column,
H. Thieme,
Pussy Galore,
The J.B.'s,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Accadde A,
Maurizio,
L. Decosne,
The Gun Club,
Gong,
The Index,
Adolescents,
Slick Rick,
Loose Ends,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Avey Tare,
Mad Mike,
Ornette Coleman,
Joensuu 1685,
Spandau Ballet,
Vainqueur,
Buzzcocks,
Procol Harum,
Faust,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Sex Pistols,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sonic Youth,
UT,
Gang Starr,
Danielle Patucci,
Graham Central Station,
Altered Images,
Johnny Clarke,
Pylon,
Matthew Bourne,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Alison Limerick,
The Martian,
Mission of Burma,
Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens.
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.