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 Andorra and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Be Bop Deluxe to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Vaughan Mason & Crew. All the underground hits.
All Eve St. Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cheater Slicks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb 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 arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deakin,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Goldenarms,
The J.B.'s,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Ronan,
Ludus,
The Modern Lovers,
Qualms,
Faraquet,
Kas Product,
Blossom Toes,
New York Dolls,
OOIOO,
Suburban Knight,
The Saints,
Sound Behaviour,
Gregory Isaacs,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Kinks,
Man Eating Sloth,
Public Image Ltd.,
Al Stewart,
Y Pants,
The Beau Brummels,
The Black Dice,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Invisible,
Spandau Ballet,
The American Breed,
Pet Shop Boys,
Aloha Tigers,
Tomorrow,
The Grass Roots,
Oneida,
One Last Wish,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Fire Engines,
Todd Terry,
Isaac Hayes,
The Cramps,
The Doors,
Mr. Review,
Crime,
Warren Ellis,
Black Bananas,
Bauhaus,
Roy Ayers,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Janne Schatter,
The Moody Blues,
Dual Sessions,
The Sound,
Kool Moe Dee,
The United States of America,
MC5,
Byron Stingily,
Tubeway Army,
Thee Headcoats,
F. McDonald,
Main Source,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Drexciya,
Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox.
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.