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 Senegal and from Johannesburg.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
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 Vladislav Delay to the rap 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 Sexual Harrassment. All the underground hits.
All It's A Beautiful Day tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eve St. Jones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a snare 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 a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sound,
Scott Walker,
The Motions,
The Flesh Eaters,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Tubeway Army,
Yaz,
Interpol,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Hot Snakes,
The Names,
MC5,
The Durutti Column,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
A Certain Ratio,
Q65,
The Remains,
Bang On A Can,
Erasure,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Fear,
Severed Heads,
The Misunderstood,
Sandy B,
The Count Five,
Lee Hazlewood,
Byron Stingily,
New Age Steppers,
The Grass Roots,
Index,
The Cure,
Clear Light,
Dave Gahan,
Bob Dylan,
Alphaville,
June of 44,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Donald Byrd,
One Last Wish,
Sonic Youth,
Graham Central Station,
Crime,
the Slits,
Marvin Gaye,
Isaac Hayes,
The Walker Brothers,
Second Layer,
Zero Boys,
Von Mondo,
the Association,
The Angels of Light,
The Doors,
Soulsonic Force,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
LL Cool J,
Panda Bear,
Idris Muhammad,
DJ Style,
Motorama,
Cameo,
Darondo,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Boogie Down Productions, Boogie Down Productions, Boogie Down Productions, Boogie Down Productions.
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.