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 Ecuador and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the oboe 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 Zapp to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Carl Craig. All the underground hits.
All Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grauzone 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a snare 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 marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Offenders,
The Names,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Henry Cow,
Jerry's Kids,
The Victims,
Fat Boys,
Joensuu 1685,
The Pretty Things,
The Selecter,
Scratch Acid,
Chrome,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Popol Vuh,
Pantaleimon,
Fad Gadget,
Scion,
The Blues Magoos,
Swell Maps,
Derrick Morgan,
Japan,
Spandau Ballet,
Scan 7,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Throbbing Gristle,
Drexciya,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Barracudas,
Ossler,
Flipper,
Tomorrow,
Dark Day,
Con Funk Shun,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Youth Brigade,
The Index,
Ice-T,
Bill Near,
Tom Boy,
Crime,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Amazonics,
Marine Girls,
China Crisis,
Yaz,
The Grass Roots,
Junior Murvin,
Monolake,
Soul II Soul,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Saints,
Joe Finger,
Kurtis Blow,
Trumans Water,
Eurythmics,
Surgeon,
Average White Band,
Leonard Cohen,
Adolescents, Adolescents, Adolescents, Adolescents.
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.