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 Comoros and from Portland.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Al Stewart to the rap 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 The Doobie Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Jacob Miller tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every De La Soul & Jungle Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a synthesizer 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 an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Michelle Simonal,
Amazonics,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Kinks,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Laurel Aitken,
The Raincoats,
Alice Coltrane,
Pussy Galore,
Subhumans,
Motorama,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Wings,
Leonard Cohen,
Swans,
Sexual Harrassment,
Iggy Pop,
The Barracudas,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Lou Christie,
Kayak,
The Birthday Party,
Symarip,
Porter Ricks,
Shoche,
Howard Jones,
the Soft Cell,
Main Source,
Sonic Youth,
kango's stein massive,
John Coltrane,
The J.B.'s,
The Black Dice,
The American Breed,
Masters at Work,
Infiniti,
Tears for Fears,
Technova,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Throbbing Gristle,
Al Stewart,
In Retrospect,
Nik Kershaw,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Royal Trux,
Eli Mardock,
Desert Stars,
Lungfish,
the Normal,
Deakin,
Grauzone,
Judy Mowatt,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Bluetip,
Ronnie Foster,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Colin Newman,
JFA,
The Associates,
Anakelly,
X-102, X-102, X-102, X-102.
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.