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 Guinea-Bissau and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Malaria! to the techno 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 The Busters. All the underground hits.
All 10cc tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every a-ha record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an organ 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 linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Susan Cadogan,
MC5,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Fall,
Youth Brigade,
Mandrill,
James White and The Blacks,
Das Ding,
Wally Richardson,
Mission of Burma,
Goldenarms,
Robert Görl,
The Litter,
Deepchord,
Banda Bassotti,
Joe Smooth,
Tropical Tobacco,
Marvin Gaye,
Unwound,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Bauhaus,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Sam Rivers,
Harry Pussy,
Nirvana,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Minny Pops,
Erykah Badu,
Ice-T,
Idris Muhammad,
T.S.O.L.,
The Slackers,
Crooked Eye,
Jerry's Kids,
Au Pairs,
The Remains,
Half Japanese,
Negative Approach,
Tommy Roe,
the Swans,
Animal Collective,
The Human League,
Man Parrish,
EPMD,
John Lydon,
Hoover,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Aaron Thompson,
Eric B and Rakim,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Pretty Things,
Nick Fraelich,
John Coltrane,
Procol Harum,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Desert Stars,
Pussy Galore,
Panda Bear,
Skriet, Skriet, Skriet, Skriet.
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.