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 Brunei and from New York.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Shanghai.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 U.S. Maple to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Anakelly. All the underground hits.
All Kool Moe Dee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacob Miller 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a theremin 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 harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Index,
Drive Like Jehu,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Lindisfarne,
The Grass Roots,
Marmalade,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Television,
Can,
Toni Rubio,
Gerry Rafferty,
Iggy Pop,
Eric Copeland,
New York Dolls,
Cheater Slicks,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Raincoats,
AZ,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Dirtbombs,
Suburban Knight,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Funkadelic,
The Flesh Eaters,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Mojo Men,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Chris & Cosey,
Ponytail,
R.M.O.,
Pylon,
Ituana,
Absolute Body Control,
Rapeman,
Henry Cow,
Thompson Twins,
MC5,
Bill Wells,
Rites of Spring,
Whodini,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Alton Ellis,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Barclay James Harvest,
the Soft Cell,
Black Pus,
James White and The Blacks,
Radiohead,
The Victims,
The Pop Group,
Liliput,
Gil Scott Heron,
In Retrospect,
The Shadows of Knight,
Rufus Thomas,
Cluster,
Colin Newman,
Kerri Chandler,
Oblivians, Oblivians, Oblivians, Oblivians.
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.