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 Turkmenistan and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Erykah Badu to the rap 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 Scratch Acid. All the underground hits.
All Skriet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lungfish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb 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 marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tomorrow,
The Moleskins,
Roger Hodgson,
Marvin Gaye,
Main Source,
New Age Steppers,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Dawn Penn,
Interpol,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Country Teasers,
Tom Boy,
Joyce Sims,
The Invisible,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Young Rascals,
The Index,
Circle Jerks,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Henry Cow,
Harry Pussy,
Japan,
The Skatalites,
FM Einheit,
Eurythmics,
Davy DMX,
The Velvet Underground,
Hasil Adkins,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Fat Boys,
Sparks,
Desert Stars,
The Doobie Brothers,
Derrick May,
Scrapy,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Vladislav Delay,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Ultravox,
The Monochrome Set,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Sun City Girls,
David Bowie,
Cymande,
Hot Snakes,
Swell Maps,
Animal Collective,
Girls At Our Best!,
Alice Coltrane,
Ice-T,
Hashim,
DNA,
10cc,
Cybotron,
Throbbing Gristle,
Alton Ellis,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Rod Modell,
Smog,
the Swans,
Newcleus, Newcleus, Newcleus, Newcleus.
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.