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 Rwanda and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Depeche Mode to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Invisible. All the underground hits.
All Al Stewart tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minnie Riperton record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 theremin and a mellotron 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 808 and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Shoche,
Funky Four + One,
David Bowie,
The Golliwogs,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Carl Craig,
Rotary Connection,
Hardrive,
The Doobie Brothers,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Little Man,
Throbbing Gristle,
Bob Dylan,
Dual Sessions,
Pagans,
Tommy Roe,
Liliput,
Accadde A,
B.T. Express,
Tom Boy,
The Toasters,
Joe Finger,
The Residents,
Amon Düül,
Wasted Youth,
Inner City,
Can,
Neu!,
Skarface,
E-Dancer,
Piero Umiliani,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
U.S. Maple,
Gang Starr,
The Monks,
Bootsy Collins,
Pantytec,
Harry Pussy,
Roy Ayers,
Curtis Mayfield,
Bush Tetras,
Terry Callier,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Dead C,
Roger Hodgson,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Smog,
T. Rex,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Eric Copeland,
Anthony Braxton,
New Age Steppers,
Gichy Dan,
Iggy Pop,
Byron Stingily,
Cabaret Voltaire, Cabaret Voltaire, Cabaret Voltaire, Cabaret Voltaire.
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.