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 Andorra and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Copenhagen.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Crash Course in Science to the grime 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 The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band. All the underground hits.
All The Toasters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bob Dylan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Maurizio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-101,
Marine Girls,
Eric Dolphy,
Magma,
John Coltrane,
New Order,
Pole,
Yellowson,
the Sonics,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Lucky Dragons,
Black Flag,
The Modern Lovers,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Gong,
Make Up,
Deadbeat,
Jandek,
Fat Boys,
Black Bananas,
Dennis Brown,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Chris Corsano,
Zero Boys,
The Selecter,
Byron Stingily,
The Blues Magoos,
Lakeside,
The American Breed,
The Saints,
Blake Baxter,
Adolescents,
Franke,
Ornette Coleman,
Frankie Knuckles,
Peter and Kerry,
Cybotron,
Neu!,
Eurythmics,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
8 Eyed Spy,
Anthony Braxton,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
John Cale,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Reagan Youth,
James White and The Blacks,
Warren Ellis,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Flipper,
Pagans,
Severed Heads,
Public Image Ltd.,
Roy Ayers,
Graham Central Station,
Sparks,
Isaac Hayes,
The Residents,
Pylon,
Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman.
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.