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 Bolivia and from Portland.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the marimba 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 A Certain Ratio to the disco 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 B.T. Express. All the underground hits.
All The Fortunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Livin' Joy 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a guitar 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 güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
H. Thieme,
Popol Vuh,
Pantaleimon,
Tres Demented,
The Dead C,
The Happenings,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Ralphi Rosario,
Symarip,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Traffic Nightmare,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Moss Icon,
Dark Day,
Black Flag,
Bad Manners,
Wally Richardson,
Ultravox,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Scion,
Jacob Miller,
Bauhaus,
Donny Hathaway,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Toasters,
Kas Product,
Matthew Bourne,
Fifty Foot Hose,
New Age Steppers,
Spoonie Gee,
Robert Hood,
Joensuu 1685,
The Tremeloes,
The American Breed,
The Stooges,
Royal Trux,
Jimmy McGriff,
Sarah Menescal,
The Modern Lovers,
Porter Ricks,
Donald Byrd,
Little Man,
kango's stein massive,
Animal Collective,
Cal Tjader,
Das Ding,
Mandrill,
Inner City,
The Motions,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Unwound,
Schoolly D,
Second Layer,
Masters at Work,
DJ Style,
The Count Five,
Joy Division,
Newcleus,
David Axelrod,
Crime,
Electric Prunes,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Move, The Move, The Move, The Move.
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.