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 Canada and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 The Stooges to the disco 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 Sun Ra. All the underground hits.
All DNA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Five Americans 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a rhodes 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 clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Detroit Cobras,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Leaves,
Franke,
Flash Fearless,
Glambeats Corp.,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
CMW,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
X-Ray Spex,
Davy DMX,
The Real Kids,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Radiohead,
Max Romeo,
Kevin Saunderson,
ABC,
Roxette,
June Days,
Banda Bassotti,
Lou Christie,
The Birthday Party,
Brick,
Slave,
Danielle Patucci,
Harry Pussy,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Bluetip,
Howard Jones,
Bad Manners,
Faust,
The Smoke,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Section 25,
Robert Wyatt,
The Monks,
Scrapy,
Scratch Acid,
Barclay James Harvest,
Warsaw,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Subhumans,
Whodini,
David Axelrod,
Scientists,
Amon Düül II,
The Pretty Things,
Masters at Work,
Circle Jerks,
Johnny Clarke,
Lakeside,
The Sound,
Grey Daturas,
B.T. Express,
Stockholm Monsters,
Piero Umiliani,
Echospace,
Lindisfarne,
Pussy Galore,
Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles.
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.