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 Iraq and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Agent Orange to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Lungfish. All the underground hits.
All Sad Lovers and Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Can 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet 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 clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boz Scaggs,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Monochrome Set,
The Misunderstood,
JFA,
The Blues Magoos,
Juan Atkins,
Judy Mowatt,
Spandau Ballet,
Inner City,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Eve St. Jones,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Saints,
kango's stein massive,
Cecil Taylor,
Absolute Body Control,
Rakim,
Beasts of Bourbon,
James White and The Blacks,
The Names,
Arab on Radar,
Graham Central Station,
David Axelrod,
The Velvet Underground,
Scratch Acid,
Robert Wyatt,
The Pretty Things,
The Angels of Light,
Ludus,
Minor Threat,
The Modern Lovers,
Deepchord,
Franke,
Joey Negro,
The American Breed,
Quando Quango,
Soulsonic Force,
UT,
Frankie Knuckles,
OOIOO,
D'Angelo,
AZ,
Soul II Soul,
The Knickerbockers,
Wasted Youth,
Carl Craig,
Blossom Toes,
New York Dolls,
Scrapy,
Bob Dylan,
F. McDonald,
Zapp,
The Red Krayola,
Charles Mingus,
Jerry's Kids,
Zero Boys,
Circle Jerks,
Todd Rundgren,
Drexciya,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Joensuu 1685,
The Buckinghams,
Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour.
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.