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 Congo and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 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 Mission of Burma to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Davy DMX. All the underground hits.
All Underground Resistance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Last Poets record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 mellotron and a guitar 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 linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kayak,
Glambeats Corp.,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Black Flag,
Ultravox,
Second Layer,
Tom Boy,
Mad Mike,
Gang Starr,
T.S.O.L.,
Excepter,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Masters at Work,
The Motions,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Banda Bassotti,
Mark Hollis,
AZ,
Bobby Sherman,
Silicon Teens,
Anthony Braxton,
Rufus Thomas,
Ludus,
Cameo,
Soft Machine,
In Retrospect,
David Bowie,
Scratch Acid,
Eric Copeland,
The Smiths,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Frankie Knuckles,
Juan Atkins,
Spoonie Gee,
John Cale,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Deakin,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Lyres,
Peter and Kerry,
Barry Ungar,
Siglo XX,
Franke,
Radio Birdman,
Cybotron,
Wolf Eyes,
Terrestrial Tones,
Index,
L. Decosne,
Soulsonic Force,
New Order,
D'Angelo,
Graham Central Station,
The Buckinghams,
Jeff Lynne,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Rakim,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Lindisfarne,
Barclay James Harvest,
Eve St. Jones,
Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry.
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.