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 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 E-Dancer to the techno 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 Eve St. Jones. All the underground hits.
All Clear Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rakim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar 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 synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
Hot Snakes,
Dawn Penn,
Dorothy Ashby,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Cramps,
Lyres,
Gabor Szabo,
Brick,
Inner City,
New Order,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Fatback Band,
The Index,
Tres Demented,
Y Pants,
The Standells,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Eden Ahbez,
Drexciya,
Steve Hackett,
Gang of Four,
Donald Byrd,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Bang On A Can,
Ronan,
Piero Umiliani,
Intrusion,
Wire,
June of 44,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Slackers,
Kaleidoscope,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Livin' Joy,
The Angels of Light,
Rites of Spring,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Hardrive,
Bronski Beat,
Pylon,
John Lydon,
Throbbing Gristle,
Flash Fearless,
Jimmy McGriff,
John Holt,
The Smiths,
Quantec,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Alarm Clocks,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Flamin' Groovies,
Black Flag,
Deakin,
Johnny Clarke,
Tommy Roe,
JFA,
Shuggie Otis,
Tomorrow,
Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar.
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.