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 Panama and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Minor Threat to the grime 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 Magazine. All the underground hits.
All Johnny Clarke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Buckinghams 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet 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 chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Little Man,
The Velvet Underground,
Neu!,
Soul Sonic Force,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Los Fastidios,
Thompson Twins,
Laurel Aitken,
Siglo XX,
Angry Samoans,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Cheater Slicks,
Cameo,
Public Enemy,
Lindisfarne,
John Coltrane,
Sparks,
The Sound,
Jawbox,
Jacob Miller,
MDC,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Dorothy Ashby,
Aloha Tigers,
Lakeside,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
the Slits,
Tommy Roe,
Thee Headcoats,
Scientists,
Drexciya,
Motorama,
Warren Ellis,
The Music Machine,
Vladislav Delay,
The Slits,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Ituana,
Jandek,
Lower 48,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Pierre Henry,
Urselle,
Albert Ayler,
Black Sheep,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
New York Dolls,
The Smiths,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Connie Case,
Slave,
Supertramp,
Bauhaus,
Hot Snakes,
Lungfish,
The Martian,
The Kinks,
The Saints,
the Bar-Kays,
Erasure, Erasure, Erasure, Erasure.
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.