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 Peru and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Sound Behaviour to the funk 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 Fat Boys. All the underground hits.
All Fatback Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eddi Front record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a linndrum 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 clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Qualms,
Lee Hazlewood,
Rekid,
Nick Fraelich,
Barclay James Harvest,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Silicon Teens,
The Cramps,
June of 44,
Drive Like Jehu,
Popol Vuh,
Underground Resistance,
Peter and Kerry,
Q65,
Clear Light,
Intrusion,
Gabor Szabo,
Jacob Miller,
Wally Richardson,
Funky Four + One,
Gichy Dan,
Marshall Jefferson,
Brothers Johnson,
Lou Christie,
Lalo Schifrin,
Neil Young,
The Cowsills,
Bobby Byrd,
Nas,
Dawn Penn,
Schoolly D,
Grauzone,
The Knickerbockers,
Gang Green,
Chrome,
Eddi Front,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Ohio Players,
Quadrant,
The Raincoats,
Groovy Waters,
Josef K,
Robert Görl,
the Sonics,
the Slits,
James White and The Blacks,
Soul Sonic Force,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Beau Brummels,
The Names,
The Slackers,
Graham Central Station,
the Germs,
Laurel Aitken,
Gang Gang Dance,
Donny Hathaway,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Gang Starr,
Black Moon,
The Shadows of Knight,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Letta Mbulu,
Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid.
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.