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 Bahamas and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Television Personalities. All the underground hits.
All Shuggie Otis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Intrusion record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 clarinet 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 organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Excepter,
Fugazi,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Man Parrish,
Tears for Fears,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Half Japanese,
Quando Quango,
Bobby Byrd,
Sugar Minott,
Lalann,
Infiniti,
Eric Dolphy,
Jeff Mills,
Little Man,
Idris Muhammad,
Gerry Rafferty,
Youth Brigade,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Gong,
Saccharine Trust,
ABBA,
Aural Exciters,
Ultravox,
Bootsy Collins,
Japan,
Audionom,
PIL,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Monochrome Set,
Nico,
Amazonics,
Juan Atkins,
LL Cool J,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Victims,
the Sonics,
Nick Fraelich,
Nik Kershaw,
B.T. Express,
Television,
Gang of Four,
Sex Pistols,
Joey Negro,
AZ,
The Real Kids,
Donny Hathaway,
Lower 48,
a-ha,
The New Christs,
Avey Tare,
Fear,
Hot Snakes,
Aaron Thompson,
the Swans,
Jacob Miller,
Minny Pops,
Mark Hollis,
Accadde A,
Panda Bear,
The Gladiators,
Magazine,
Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell.
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.