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 Cape Verde and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the oboe 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 F. McDonald to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Men They Couldn't Hang. All the underground hits.
All Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Silicon Teens record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin 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 sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Desert Stars,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Moby Grape,
The Young Rascals,
Suicide,
Connie Case,
Cymande,
The Red Krayola,
Sight & Sound,
Dark Day,
Duran Duran,
Juan Atkins,
Severed Heads,
The United States of America,
Nik Kershaw,
The Motions,
Sun City Girls,
La Düsseldorf,
Gang of Four,
Nirvana,
The Raincoats,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Quadrant,
the Association,
Guru Guru,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Names,
Saccharine Trust,
Funkadelic,
Sonny Sharrock,
Kenny Larkin,
Television Personalities,
Todd Rundgren,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Maurizio,
Marmalade,
Easy Going,
Simply Red,
Curtis Mayfield,
Radiohead,
Lalann,
The Zeros,
Eric B and Rakim,
Todd Terry,
The Techniques,
The Doobie Brothers,
Au Pairs,
B.T. Express,
Freddie Wadling,
Model 500,
Howard Jones,
Kayak,
The Seeds,
Mars,
Second Layer,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Joyce Sims,
Agitation Free,
Fear,
Public Enemy,
Camouflage,
Albert Ayler,
The Cramps,
The Index, The Index, The Index, The Index.
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.