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 Rwanda and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Sun Ra to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Tropical Tobacco. All the underground hits.
All Angels of Light & Akron/Family tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Germs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a güiro 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 harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heaven 17,
Parry Music,
Boredoms,
The Moleskins,
T.S.O.L.,
Babytalk,
Basic Channel,
Motorama,
Sex Pistols,
Ten City,
Chrome,
Eric Copeland,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Mummies,
a-ha,
The Doors,
Arcadia,
Peter and Kerry,
Arthur Verocai,
Deepchord,
Lucky Dragons,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Pussy Galore,
The Kinks,
The Electric Prunes,
Laurel Aitken,
Jacques Brel,
X-Ray Spex,
The United States of America,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Radio Birdman,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Procol Harum,
Gang Starr,
Stereo Dub,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Names,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Kurtis Blow,
Peter & Gordon,
Scientists,
The Residents,
Quantec,
Minutemen,
Liliput,
Todd Terry,
The Count Five,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Danielle Patucci,
Prince Buster,
Little Man,
The Cowsills,
Reuben Wilson,
Matthew Bourne,
48th St. Collective,
Chris & Cosey,
Gregory Isaacs,
Television Personalities,
Throbbing Gristle,
the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars.
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.