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 Mongolia and from Madrid.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Country Teasers to the punk 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 Steve Hackett. All the underground hits.
All Suburban Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantytec record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 marimba and a chamberlin 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 spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fifty Foot Hose,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Monochrome Set,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Jeru the Damaja,
Royal Trux,
Todd Rundgren,
X-Ray Spex,
Boz Scaggs,
Blossom Toes,
The Leaves,
Gang Green,
Steve Hackett,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Sound Behaviour,
Black Bananas,
Metal Thangz,
The Residents,
Pagans,
Bad Manners,
The Sound,
Ralphi Rosario,
Sällskapet,
The Cure,
Absolute Body Control,
Todd Terry,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
B.T. Express,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Tres Demented,
Y Pants,
Stetsasonic,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
David Bowie,
Masters at Work,
The Alarm Clocks,
Crispian St. Peters,
Brick,
Cluster,
Monolake,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Young Rascals,
Thompson Twins,
Darondo,
The Slits,
Shuggie Otis,
Pantaleimon,
8 Eyed Spy,
Frankie Knuckles,
Altered Images,
John Holt,
Unrelated Segments,
DJ Sneak,
Hasil Adkins,
Arthur Verocai,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The United States of America,
the Association,
Jacques Brel,
The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots.
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.