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 China and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Electric Prunes to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Freddie Wadling. All the underground hits.
All Rites of Spring tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every ABBA 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moebius 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?
Harry Pussy,
John Coltrane,
Sex Pistols,
Section 25,
Grey Daturas,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Motorama,
Jesper Dahlback,
LL Cool J,
The Mojo Men,
Bush Tetras,
Excepter,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Chrome,
The Vogues,
Jawbox,
The Beau Brummels,
Hot Snakes,
June Days,
Peter and Kerry,
The Happenings,
Boredoms,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Wolf Eyes,
Magma,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
X-Ray Spex,
Gabor Szabo,
Nils Olav,
Negative Approach,
Sonic Youth,
Moebius,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Fat Boys,
Swans,
Ossler,
Surgeon,
Half Japanese,
Brass Construction,
Echospace,
A Certain Ratio,
Babytalk,
Rites of Spring,
The Names,
Monolake,
Von Mondo,
The Music Machine,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Blancmange,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Gang Gang Dance,
the Sonics,
Sight & Sound,
Ituana,
H. Thieme,
Model 500,
Mantronix,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Gories,
Fela Kuti,
Warren Ellis,
The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs.
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.