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 Kiribati and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 Milan and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Hasil Adkins to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Men They Couldn't Hang. All the underground hits.
All James White and The Blacks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arab on Radar record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 808 and a spring reverb 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 chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bob Dylan,
New York Dolls,
Rekid,
The Gladiators,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
8 Eyed Spy,
Zero Boys,
Tears for Fears,
Hardrive,
Chris Corsano,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Black Dice,
David Bowie,
Freddie Wadling,
Peter & Gordon,
Boredoms,
Bang On A Can,
The Vogues,
The Cowsills,
X-Ray Spex,
Juan Atkins,
Agitation Free,
the Bar-Kays,
Cymande,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Harry Pussy,
Avey Tare,
Supertramp,
Kas Product,
Grey Daturas,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Lucky Dragons,
Cheater Slicks,
The Dirtbombs,
Connie Case,
Terry Callier,
Man Parrish,
Robert Hood,
Gang Starr,
Darondo,
Soulsonic Force,
Mars,
Niagra,
Outsiders,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Yaz,
Mr. Review,
Matthew Halsall,
Ornette Coleman,
Soft Cell,
Can,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Velvet Underground,
Spandau Ballet,
Khruangbin,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Ronan,
Kerri Chandler,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Rosa Yemen,
Anthony Braxton, Anthony Braxton, Anthony Braxton, Anthony Braxton.
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.