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 Equatorial Guinea and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Wire show in Watford.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Rites of Spring to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Zero Boys. All the underground hits.
All Bootsy's Rubber Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faraquet 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a sitar 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 rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blake Baxter,
Ken Boothe,
Fat Boys,
The Fortunes,
The Angels of Light,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
the Fania All-Stars,
ABBA,
Throbbing Gristle,
Black Pus,
Television,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Con Funk Shun,
Archie Shepp,
Minutemen,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Faraquet,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Loose Ends,
Sonic Youth,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Sun City Girls,
ABC,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Wally Richardson,
Sixth Finger,
Dennis Brown,
Jacques Brel,
EPMD,
Negative Approach,
David Bowie,
Laurel Aitken,
Faust,
Marvin Gaye,
Spoonie Gee,
Youth Brigade,
James White and The Blacks,
Tears for Fears,
Letta Mbulu,
The Fall,
The Sonics,
Nas,
The Dead C,
Icehouse,
Tres Demented,
Lakeside,
Surgeon,
Ice-T,
Bizarre Inc.,
Pere Ubu,
Das Ding,
Rekid,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Walker Brothers,
The Offenders,
Mad Mike,
Bobby Womack,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Qualms,
Heaven 17,
Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey.
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.