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 Suriname and from Tehran.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 The Vogues to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 In Retrospect. All the underground hits.
All The New Christs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Delon & Dalcan 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a mellotron 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 chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Womack,
Deakin,
Infiniti,
Model 500,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Beau Brummels,
Q and Not U,
The Offenders,
Von Mondo,
Excepter,
Angry Samoans,
UT,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Bizarre Inc.,
Mr. Review,
Khruangbin,
Mad Mike,
Man Eating Sloth,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Niagra,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Jerry's Kids,
Neu!,
The Fugs,
Hardrive,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Moebius,
Subhumans,
Organ,
Black Pus,
L. Decosne,
Pantaleimon,
Tom Boy,
Lee Hazlewood,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Gun Club,
New York Dolls,
Rosa Yemen,
Mary Jane Girls,
Lungfish,
Aswad,
The Electric Prunes,
Lower 48,
New Order,
Cheater Slicks,
Quando Quango,
Thompson Twins,
EPMD,
Ossler,
Sun Ra,
Marshall Jefferson,
Jacques Brel,
the Fania All-Stars,
Dead Boys,
kango's stein massive,
U.S. Maple,
Scan 7,
The Motions,
Moss Icon,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Nirvana,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys.
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.