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 Romania and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Tropical Tobacco to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Sarah Menescal. All the underground hits.
All Delon & Dalcan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wings record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 chamberlin and a marimba 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 harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mars,
Sam Rivers,
Cecil Taylor,
Interpol,
Cameo,
The Raincoats,
The Associates,
The Standells,
Rosa Yemen,
Sixth Finger,
Terrestrial Tones,
Neil Young,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Tropical Tobacco,
Mark Hollis,
The Real Kids,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Kerrie Biddell,
Mo-Dettes,
Harry Pussy,
Flamin' Groovies,
Brand Nubian,
Maleditus Sound,
the Association,
Lou Christie,
Easy Going,
June of 44,
Young Marble Giants,
Eric Copeland,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Marc Almond,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Frankie Knuckles,
Silicon Teens,
The J.B.'s,
Barry Ungar,
Fela Kuti,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Derrick Morgan,
Be Bop Deluxe,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Isaac Hayes,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
MC5,
Japan,
Todd Terry,
Stetsasonic,
Parry Music,
Quantec,
Minor Threat,
Lalann,
Roy Ayers,
The Sound,
Dead Boys,
Bobby Byrd,
Jandek,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Monks,
Animal Collective,
Technova,
Sandy B,
The Dave Clark Five,
Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis.
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.