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 Belgium and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Soft Machine to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Bill Near. All the underground hits.
All Nico tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantytec 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 snare and a rhodes 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 oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
H. Thieme,
The Standells,
R.M.O.,
Suburban Knight,
Massinfluence,
The Kinks,
The Move,
Little Man,
Traffic Nightmare,
Grey Daturas,
The Real Kids,
Archie Shepp,
Aaron Thompson,
Gang Gang Dance,
Gang of Four,
OOIOO,
The Red Krayola,
Girls At Our Best!,
Suicide,
Bootsy Collins,
This Heat,
Tubeway Army,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Jawbox,
Bush Tetras,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Modern Lovers,
The Selecter,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Gil Scott Heron,
Hardrive,
Oblivians,
Roger Hodgson,
Heaven 17,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Public Enemy,
Black Bananas,
Rites of Spring,
Nirvana,
Monolake,
Con Funk Shun,
Marc Almond,
Echospace,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Monks,
the Soft Cell,
Sällskapet,
Parry Music,
Lalann,
Faraquet,
The Star Department,
8 Eyed Spy,
Mission of Burma,
Wolf Eyes,
Silicon Teens,
Bronski Beat,
Eddi Front,
Subhumans,
Zero Boys,
Desert Stars,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Urselle, Urselle, Urselle, Urselle.
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.