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 Kenya and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Bobby Hutcherson to the punk 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 Rhythm & Sound. All the underground hits.
All The Jesus and Mary Chain tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gian Franco Pienzio record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 rhodes and a theremin 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 güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pere Ubu,
The Saints,
the Soft Cell,
Max Romeo,
Lyres,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Neu!,
DJ Style,
Von Mondo,
Circle Jerks,
Cymande,
10cc,
Sarah Menescal,
Joensuu 1685,
Henry Cow,
U.S. Maple,
David Axelrod,
Sonic Youth,
Joey Negro,
Pylon,
The Young Rascals,
China Crisis,
Lindisfarne,
Scan 7,
Black Moon,
The Victims,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Surgeon,
The Slits,
Lucky Dragons,
Procol Harum,
Visage,
The Fall,
Gang Starr,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Symarip,
Sound Behaviour,
Steve Hackett,
48th St. Collective,
The Last Poets,
Urselle,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Swell Maps,
The Happenings,
Pantytec,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
UT,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Stiv Bators,
Nico,
Eli Mardock,
Morten Harket,
Zapp,
The Durutti Column,
The Leaves,
Traffic Nightmare,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Alarm Clocks,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
the Association,
D'Angelo,
Bobby Sherman,
Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy.
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.