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 Mauritius and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Wire show in Watford.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Jeru the Damaja to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Idris Muhammad. All the underground hits.
All Isaac Hayes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tears for Fears record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a sitar 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 theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slits,
Connie Case,
Ultra Naté,
D'Angelo,
Lightning Bolt,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Sparks,
Godley & Creme,
Rhythm & Sound,
Idris Muhammad,
Severed Heads,
Crispian St. Peters,
One Last Wish,
Interpol,
Model 500,
The Young Rascals,
John Cale,
Aural Exciters,
Q and Not U,
Saccharine Trust,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Marmalade,
Pulsallama,
Con Funk Shun,
Public Enemy,
Maurizio,
Sun Ra,
The Birthday Party,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
June of 44,
The Stooges,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Pylon,
Warsaw,
Deakin,
Country Teasers,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Golliwogs,
Tropical Tobacco,
H. Thieme,
Steve Hackett,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Reuben Wilson,
David McCallum,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Nas,
Sugar Minott,
Fugazi,
Sexual Harrassment,
Jandek,
Babytalk,
Sonic Youth,
Swans,
Robert Hood,
Bill Near,
The Modern Lovers,
T. Rex,
Youth Brigade,
Colin Newman,
Wings,
Fat Boys,
Amon Düül II,
Barrington Levy,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Louis and Bebe Barron, Louis and Bebe Barron, Louis and Bebe Barron, Louis and Bebe Barron.
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.