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 Georgia and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Reuben Wilson to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The Music Machine. All the underground hits.
All A Certain Ratio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crash Course in Science 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a 808 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 a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Standells,
Basic Channel,
Suicide,
Piero Umiliani,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Cramps,
James White and The Blacks,
Iggy Pop,
Tom Boy,
Eve St. Jones,
The Monochrome Set,
The Fugs,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Doobie Brothers,
Eli Mardock,
The Gories,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Motorama,
Warren Ellis,
Marcia Griffiths,
Camberwell Now,
Circle Jerks,
Sex Pistols,
Charles Mingus,
Swell Maps,
Crash Course in Science,
Arthur Verocai,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
a-ha,
Nik Kershaw,
Dark Day,
Matthew Bourne,
Bad Manners,
These Immortal Souls,
The Gap Band,
Cluster,
X-Ray Spex,
The Blues Magoos,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Ronnie Foster,
Boogie Down Productions,
Rapeman,
Main Source,
Banda Bassotti,
Oneida,
New Age Steppers,
Anthony Braxton,
Parry Music,
The Tremeloes,
Bill Near,
Blossom Toes,
Agent Orange,
Ponytail,
Cameo,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Siglo XX,
Gregory Isaacs,
Bluetip,
Delta 5,
Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye.
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.