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 Congo and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Roxette to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Bad Manners. All the underground hits.
All Swell Maps tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Spandau Ballet 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a güiro 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 synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Warren Ellis,
Johnny Clarke,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Buckinghams,
Dawn Penn,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
the Germs,
The Fire Engines,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Schoolly D,
Colin Newman,
Symarip,
Jeru the Damaja,
Zapp,
Crime,
Sam Rivers,
Quadrant,
Lebanon Hanover,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Sun Ra,
Tommy Roe,
Wire,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Los Fastidios,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
DNA,
Talk Talk,
Japan,
LL Cool J,
Oblivians,
Excepter,
Vainqueur,
New York Dolls,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Rekid,
Liliput,
Byron Stingily,
The Gladiators,
Big Daddy Kane,
Joy Division,
The Electric Prunes,
Max Romeo,
Grandmaster Flash,
Aloha Tigers,
Erykah Badu,
The Angels of Light,
The Cowsills,
Kool Moe Dee,
Arcadia,
Gregory Isaacs,
Babytalk,
John Foxx,
Deakin,
Donny Hathaway,
Tubeway Army,
Steve Hackett,
Organ,
Letta Mbulu,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Morten Harket,
Sällskapet,
Slave,
This Heat, This Heat, This Heat, This Heat.
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.