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 Sierra Leone and from Seoul.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Bobby Womack to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Fluxion. All the underground hits.
All Gang Starr tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every In Retrospect record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar 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 snare and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispy Ambulance,
Visage,
Accadde A,
Jacques Brel,
DNA,
Severed Heads,
Bob Dylan,
Nation of Ulysses,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Jimmy McGriff,
Magma,
Tubeway Army,
The Wake,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Cheater Slicks,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Matthew Halsall,
F. McDonald,
The Kinks,
Johnny Clarke,
The Dirtbombs,
Patti Smith,
Brick,
H. Thieme,
Arcadia,
Lower 48,
Bobby Sherman,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Blues Magoos,
Sparks,
Dead Boys,
The Beau Brummels,
Eric B and Rakim,
Infiniti,
Marmalade,
8 Eyed Spy,
Lebanon Hanover,
Alice Coltrane,
Robert Hood,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Sound Behaviour,
Motorama,
Basic Channel,
Scan 7,
The Tremeloes,
D'Angelo,
Yellowson,
Zapp,
The Leaves,
The Gap Band,
Wolf Eyes,
The Knickerbockers,
Black Sheep,
The Modern Lovers,
Mr. Review,
The Associates,
Unrelated Segments,
Morten Harket,
Andrew Hill,
Brass Construction,
Neu!,
James White and The Blacks,
Qualms, Qualms, Qualms, Qualms.
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.