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 Grenada and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 Manila and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Brick to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Five Americans. All the underground hits.
All The Alarm Clocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Soft Cell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a mellotron 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 sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Byrd,
Iggy Pop,
Aswad,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Stetsasonic,
Shuggie Otis,
Hoover,
Fela Kuti,
ABC,
Brass Construction,
Grey Daturas,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Offenders,
Moby Grape,
Interpol,
Avey Tare,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Albert Ayler,
Bobbi Humphrey,
the Association,
The Smiths,
Sister Nancy,
Yazoo,
Nico,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Gang Starr,
The Blues Magoos,
Tubeway Army,
Nik Kershaw,
the Soft Cell,
Siglo XX,
Mad Mike,
The Trojans,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Cure,
Talk Talk,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Sound Behaviour,
Ultra Naté,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Malaria!,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Warren Ellis,
Dennis Brown,
Thee Headcoats,
Ten City,
Camberwell Now,
Todd Terry,
Motorama,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Boredoms,
China Crisis,
The American Breed,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
the Sonics,
The Slackers,
Rapeman,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Massinfluence,
Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim.
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.