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 Armenia and from Copenhagen.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Spandau Ballet. All the underground hits.
All Pharoah Sanders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cosmic Jokers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 snare and an oboe 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 linndrum and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gastr Del Sol,
Barry Ungar,
Massinfluence,
Ponytail,
Blancmange,
Ultra Naté,
PIL,
Jeru the Damaja,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Jawbox,
Pussy Galore,
Kaleidoscope,
Bob Dylan,
Mary Jane Girls,
Swans,
Piero Umiliani,
Surgeon,
Angry Samoans,
Byron Stingily,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Scion,
Neil Young,
Joyce Sims,
Bobby Womack,
Slick Rick,
Michelle Simonal,
Soulsonic Force,
The United States of America,
The Moleskins,
F. McDonald,
The Knickerbockers,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Rakim,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Glenn Branca,
John Lydon,
Drive Like Jehu,
Janne Schatter,
Boz Scaggs,
X-Ray Spex,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Das Ding,
The Vogues,
Hardrive,
the Normal,
Mo-Dettes,
Deadbeat,
Supertramp,
Iggy Pop,
Slave,
Rotary Connection,
Cecil Taylor,
the Bar-Kays,
Lightning Bolt,
June Days,
Oblivians,
Stiv Bators,
Curtis Mayfield,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Divine Comedy,
The Leaves,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family, Angels of Light & Akron/Family, Angels of Light & Akron/Family, Angels of Light & Akron/Family.
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.