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 Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Terrestrial Tones to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Cheater Slicks. All the underground hits.
All Section 25 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cowsills 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar 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 güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angry Samoans,
The Searchers,
Los Fastidios,
Motorama,
Lightning Bolt,
B.T. Express,
Deakin,
Ken Boothe,
The Cure,
In Retrospect,
FM Einheit,
the Fania All-Stars,
Zapp,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Thompson Twins,
Smog,
Junior Murvin,
Sex Pistols,
Prince Buster,
Carl Craig,
Scion,
Kool Moe Dee,
Traffic Nightmare,
Main Source,
Harpers Bizarre,
Ice-T,
Bootsy Collins,
Excepter,
Panda Bear,
The Dead C,
Goldenarms,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Rites of Spring,
Ossler,
Make Up,
Fad Gadget,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Seeds,
The Raincoats,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Simply Red,
Radio Birdman,
UT,
Sparks,
Dorothy Ashby,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Electric Prunes,
Barclay James Harvest,
Basic Channel,
Marvin Gaye,
Rosa Yemen,
Crime,
Boredoms,
Index,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Barry Ungar,
Andrew Hill,
Blake Baxter,
Deadbeat,
China Crisis,
Depeche Mode,
Eurythmics,
Lakeside, Lakeside, Lakeside, Lakeside.
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.