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 Panama and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 mellotron 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 Jacques Brel to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Yusef Lateef. All the underground hits.
All Harpers Bizarre tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Associates record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 spring reverb and a clarinet 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 snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fire Engines,
Grauzone,
Rhythm & Sound,
Alison Limerick,
Colin Newman,
Reagan Youth,
The Birthday Party,
Brick,
The Human League,
FM Einheit,
The Happenings,
Black Pus,
The Golliwogs,
Pere Ubu,
Al Stewart,
Soft Machine,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Soft Cell,
Prince Buster,
Lou Christie,
Gregory Isaacs,
Lou Reed,
Robert Hood,
Underground Resistance,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Offenders,
Joe Smooth,
The Mummies,
Terry Callier,
Derrick May,
B.T. Express,
The Music Machine,
Eric B and Rakim,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Saints,
Index,
The Pop Group,
UT,
James White and The Blacks,
Man Eating Sloth,
8 Eyed Spy,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Wings,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Silicon Teens,
Shoche,
Rufus Thomas,
Jeff Lynne,
Roxette,
The Wake,
Fat Boys,
The Pretty Things,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Section 25,
Traffic Nightmare,
Talk Talk,
Yaz,
Big Daddy Kane,
X-Ray Spex,
Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox.
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.