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 United States and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Sonny Sharrock to the crunk 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 Eric Copeland. All the underground hits.
All Judy Mowatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a synthesizer 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 harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alton Ellis,
Chrome,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Fat Boys,
Charles Mingus,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Eden Ahbez,
Mark Hollis,
Alice Coltrane,
Con Funk Shun,
Sister Nancy,
Danielle Patucci,
The Victims,
Agitation Free,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Birthday Party,
Glenn Branca,
The Knickerbockers,
Outsiders,
The Moody Blues,
Howard Jones,
Skaos,
Terrestrial Tones,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Joyce Sims,
Black Bananas,
New York Dolls,
Maleditus Sound,
Blancmange,
Yaz,
Lucky Dragons,
Harmonia,
Scott Walker,
MC5,
Pere Ubu,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Searchers,
Fela Kuti,
Parry Music,
the Bar-Kays,
AZ,
The Fall,
DNA,
Eli Mardock,
John Cale,
Metal Thangz,
Supertramp,
Monolake,
ABC,
Cybotron,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Fluxion,
D'Angelo,
Reagan Youth,
Lower 48,
Matthew Halsall,
The Young Rascals,
Minnie Riperton,
Janne Schatter,
The Slackers,
The Names, The Names, The Names, The Names.
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.