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 Nepal and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks to the rap 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 Khruangbin. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every A Flock of Seagulls 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes 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 organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soft Machine,
Boz Scaggs,
Lebanon Hanover,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The New Christs,
Jawbox,
Scrapy,
Tears for Fears,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
One Last Wish,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Fire Engines,
48th St. Collective,
Albert Ayler,
The Fall,
Tom Boy,
Pylon,
Yusef Lateef,
Harmonia,
Whodini,
Outsiders,
June of 44,
Max Romeo,
Judy Mowatt,
Electric Prunes,
Sonic Youth,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Nas,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Little Man,
Buzzcocks,
Letta Mbulu,
The Wake,
Bang On A Can,
Black Moon,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
cv313,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Human League,
Marshall Jefferson,
Bob Dylan,
Faraquet,
Sister Nancy,
Swans,
Bad Manners,
The Monks,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Byron Stingily,
The Fortunes,
Chris & Cosey,
Drive Like Jehu,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Grey Daturas,
The Count Five,
The Grass Roots,
Frankie Knuckles,
Accadde A,
Robert Görl,
Bauhaus, Bauhaus, Bauhaus, Bauhaus.
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.