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 Thailand and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar 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 Gabor Szabo to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Lee Hazlewood. All the underground hits.
All the Human League tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kango’s Stein Massive record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 a güiro 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 linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Khruangbin,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Youth Brigade,
The Offenders,
Gregory Isaacs,
Arab on Radar,
David Bowie,
Throbbing Gristle,
Jerry's Kids,
Delta 5,
Fat Boys,
Organ,
The Blackbyrds,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Last Poets,
Fela Kuti,
Harry Pussy,
The Smoke,
Jacob Miller,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Cure,
Tommy Roe,
Eddi Front,
The Blues Magoos,
Los Fastidios,
U.S. Maple,
Neu!,
Lucky Dragons,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Gerry Rafferty,
Pylon,
Black Sheep,
Fear,
Barclay James Harvest,
Suicide,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
X-Ray Spex,
Arcadia,
Dave Gahan,
China Crisis,
The Gladiators,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
the Bar-Kays,
Todd Terry,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Amon Düül,
Patti Smith,
The Motions,
Country Teasers,
Fugazi,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Faust,
Gabor Szabo,
Erasure,
Drexciya,
The Raincoats,
Curtis Mayfield,
Nirvana,
La Düsseldorf,
Johnny Clarke,
Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe.
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.