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 Italy and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Dennis Brown to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Manfred Mann's Earth Band. All the underground hits.
All Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Connie Case record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 guitar and a chamberlin 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 theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Laurel Aitken,
Lou Christie,
Roxette,
Jacob Miller,
Zero Boys,
The New Christs,
Model 500,
The Golliwogs,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Joensuu 1685,
Electric Prunes,
The Walker Brothers,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Desert Stars,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Moby Grape,
Minor Threat,
cv313,
Pagans,
Eric B and Rakim,
Nik Kershaw,
Wings,
The Dave Clark Five,
EPMD,
The Searchers,
X-102,
Soft Machine,
Roger Hodgson,
The Gap Band,
The Knickerbockers,
The Monochrome Set,
Deepchord,
Kool Moe Dee,
Max Romeo,
The Busters,
The Grass Roots,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Ohio Players,
Jeff Mills,
X-Ray Spex,
Eddi Front,
Joe Smooth,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Country Teasers,
Ralphi Rosario,
Crash Course in Science,
Ponytail,
Morten Harket,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Agent Orange,
Sexual Harrassment,
Rufus Thomas,
Pole,
Angry Samoans,
Byron Stingily,
Man Parrish,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Fall,
Fugazi,
Pylon, Pylon, Pylon, Pylon.
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.