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 Latvia and from Madrid.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the theremin 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 Oblivians to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Toni Rubio. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Bourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Y Pants 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a synthesizer 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 sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glambeats Corp.,
Fat Boys,
The Human League,
Deakin,
The Real Kids,
Desert Stars,
Brothers Johnson,
Lucky Dragons,
The Smoke,
Mark Hollis,
Model 500,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Siglo XX,
The Motions,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Velvet Underground,
New York Dolls,
The Sound,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
CMW,
Mo-Dettes,
Sound Behaviour,
Royal Trux,
Bill Near,
A Certain Ratio,
Sixth Finger,
Liliput,
Ken Boothe,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Robert Hood,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Alarm Clocks,
Ralphi Rosario,
These Immortal Souls,
X-102,
Wings,
Ten City,
The Gladiators,
David Bowie,
Hashim,
Duran Duran,
the Slits,
Delta 5,
The Toasters,
Bobby Sherman,
Chris & Cosey,
Man Parrish,
Kenny Larkin,
The Mummies,
Ronnie Foster,
Idris Muhammad,
The Music Machine,
Excepter,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Fugs,
Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo.
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.