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 Angola and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Raincoats to the disco 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 The Durutti Column. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Hill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Royal Family And The Poor record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum 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 clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dead C,
LL Cool J,
Nation of Ulysses,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The New Christs,
Bob Dylan,
Andrew Hill,
the Germs,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Chris Corsano,
The Moody Blues,
Piero Umiliani,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Procol Harum,
Tim Buckley,
Hoover,
Easy Going,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Skriet,
Gichy Dan,
Magma,
Joe Finger,
Rufus Thomas,
Wally Richardson,
Rhythm & Sound,
Radio Birdman,
Lee Hazlewood,
Carl Craig,
The Monochrome Set,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Sister Nancy,
X-Ray Spex,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Hasil Adkins,
Marc Almond,
Neu!,
Tomorrow,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Main Source,
Todd Rundgren,
Quadrant,
The Real Kids,
The Pretty Things,
Lower 48,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Suicide,
Hardrive,
Bush Tetras,
Arab on Radar,
The Young Rascals,
Mary Jane Girls,
Alison Limerick,
Kerri Chandler,
Blake Baxter,
Pantaleimon,
Trumans Water,
DJ Sneak,
Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock.
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.