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 Malaysia and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Black Pus to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Banda Bassotti. All the underground hits.
All John Foxx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thompson Twins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator 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 an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kerri Chandler,
Unwound,
Marc Almond,
Freddie Wadling,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Sight & Sound,
Joey Negro,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Pantaleimon,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Leonard Cohen,
Quantec,
Severed Heads,
Bob Dylan,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Harmonia,
Eden Ahbez,
Lalo Schifrin,
Organ,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Blackbyrds,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Knickerbockers,
Erasure,
Sonny Sharrock,
Fad Gadget,
Brass Construction,
Ken Boothe,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Warsaw,
Nation of Ulysses,
X-Ray Spex,
Silicon Teens,
Bill Near,
The United States of America,
Bush Tetras,
Susan Cadogan,
Rites of Spring,
Avey Tare,
The Motions,
Pere Ubu,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Idris Muhammad,
Soft Machine,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Cramps,
The Gladiators,
Derrick Morgan,
Drexciya,
Johnny Clarke,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Jeff Mills,
The Five Americans,
Neil Young,
Duran Duran,
June Days,
Terrestrial Tones,
Ultra Naté,
Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore.
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.