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 Korea South and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Icehouse to the electroclash 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 Pagans. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed & Metallica record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a chamberlin 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 guitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Last Poets,
Lakeside,
The Invisible,
the Germs,
U.S. Maple,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Dave Gahan,
Bronski Beat,
Schoolly D,
Eden Ahbez,
Kevin Saunderson,
Metal Thangz,
Tears for Fears,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Durutti Column,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Happenings,
Dennis Brown,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Leonard Cohen,
Sex Pistols,
Roxy Music,
The Modern Lovers,
David McCallum,
The Martian,
Quantec,
Letta Mbulu,
Dawn Penn,
CMW,
Ituana,
The Young Rascals,
The Pop Group,
Bauhaus,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Offenders,
Wolf Eyes,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Terry Callier,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
UT,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Beau Brummels,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Camouflage,
Eric Dolphy,
Rufus Thomas,
Jeff Lynne,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Joyce Sims,
Suicide,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Kerri Chandler,
Quando Quango,
June of 44,
Soul II Soul,
The Misunderstood,
Kurtis Blow,
Mark Hollis,
the Swans,
The Saints,
The Neon Judgement,
Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants.
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.