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 Bangladesh and from London.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Absolute Body Control to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Bill Wells. All the underground hits.
All Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alice Coltrane 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a snare 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 spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Pop Group,
Gastr Del Sol,
Soul II Soul,
Skarface,
The Dirtbombs,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Organ,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Joe Finger,
The Detroit Cobras,
Johnny Clarke,
The Electric Prunes,
The Cure,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Donny Hathaway,
Iggy Pop,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Pretty Things,
Metal Thangz,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Gap Band,
Joey Negro,
Fatback Band,
Buzzcocks,
Delta 5,
The Monochrome Set,
Bronski Beat,
Glenn Branca,
The Shadows of Knight,
Isaac Hayes,
Massinfluence,
Unrelated Segments,
EPMD,
Barbara Tucker,
DNA,
Nils Olav,
Flamin' Groovies,
Qualms,
Don Cherry,
Tommy Roe,
Terrestrial Tones,
Scott Walker,
Anthony Braxton,
Absolute Body Control,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Music Machine,
Los Fastidios,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Mark Hollis,
Quando Quango,
Crime,
Angry Samoans,
The Mojo Men,
Masters at Work,
Throbbing Gristle,
Gerry Rafferty,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics.
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.