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 Japan and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 Columbus and Salvador.
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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark to the rap 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 Tropical Tobacco. All the underground hits.
All Notorious Big And Bone Thugs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grey Daturas 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a guitar 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 marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Flesh Eaters,
Reagan Youth,
Subhumans,
David Bowie,
The Doors,
The Doobie Brothers,
Fela Kuti,
Neil Young,
Eden Ahbez,
Todd Rundgren,
Fat Boys,
Jacques Brel,
Bobby Womack,
Sex Pistols,
Terrestrial Tones,
Cybotron,
Aloha Tigers,
Prince Buster,
Derrick May,
Iggy Pop,
Bronski Beat,
Lou Reed,
Dorothy Ashby,
Hasil Adkins,
Nik Kershaw,
Moby Grape,
Faraquet,
The Standells,
Alice Coltrane,
China Crisis,
Matthew Bourne,
Boogie Down Productions,
Massinfluence,
Laurel Aitken,
Flash Fearless,
Spoonie Gee,
Barrington Levy,
Porter Ricks,
Crash Course in Science,
Bizarre Inc.,
Circle Jerks,
Schoolly D,
the Slits,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Delon & Dalcan,
CMW,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Nils Olav,
Danielle Patucci,
Darondo,
Sugar Minott,
Gichy Dan,
Pantaleimon,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Skriet,
the Swans,
The Dirtbombs,
Severed Heads,
David Axelrod,
Skaos,
The United States of America,
Soft Cell,
Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock.
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.