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 Estonia and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Jeff Mills to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 June of 44. All the underground hits.
All Man Eating Sloth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alice Coltrane 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an oboe 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 theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Graham Central Station,
Panda Bear,
Soul II Soul,
Archie Shepp,
Pylon,
Ken Boothe,
The Standells,
CMW,
The Fugs,
The Divine Comedy,
Tropical Tobacco,
Amazonics,
Robert Hood,
Gichy Dan,
The Vogues,
Stetsasonic,
Stiv Bators,
Donny Hathaway,
Jerry's Kids,
The Victims,
L. Decosne,
Qualms,
Minutemen,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Nik Kershaw,
ABBA,
The New Christs,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Whodini,
Black Bananas,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Isaac Hayes,
The Flesh Eaters,
Rosa Yemen,
Massinfluence,
Mad Mike,
Pussy Galore,
Carl Craig,
The Selecter,
Black Moon,
Pierre Henry,
Make Up,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Patti Smith,
Cluster,
Hardrive,
Mandrill,
Skarface,
Ten City,
Sonic Youth,
Nas,
Joyce Sims,
The Count Five,
Depeche Mode,
MDC,
Joe Finger,
8 Eyed Spy,
Gastr Del Sol,
Parry Music,
Terry Callier,
Man Parrish,
Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy.
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.