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 Belize and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the güiro 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 Flamin' Groovies to the jazz 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 Metal Thangz. All the underground hits.
All The Misunderstood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott Heron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a snare 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 sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang On A Can,
Tres Demented,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
World's Most,
Barclay James Harvest,
Thompson Twins,
The Remains,
John Coltrane,
Patti Smith,
Matthew Bourne,
Kayak,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Moby Grape,
Hardrive,
Young Marble Giants,
Henry Cow,
Arab on Radar,
Technova,
The Doors,
The Angels of Light,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Walker Brothers,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Das Ding,
Visage,
The Gories,
Mars,
DJ Sneak,
Crime,
Accadde A,
Godley & Creme,
The Associates,
Gastr Del Sol,
Curtis Mayfield,
Judy Mowatt,
Television,
The Star Department,
Severed Heads,
Buzzcocks,
10cc,
Johnny Osbourne,
Bush Tetras,
Joey Negro,
Crispian St. Peters,
Talk Talk,
Barbara Tucker,
the Germs,
Groovy Waters,
The Mummies,
The Move,
Dawn Penn,
Cal Tjader,
Pharoah Sanders,
Eddi Front,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Skaos,
Joensuu 1685,
The Happenings,
The Fugs,
The Fire Engines,
Alice Coltrane,
X-102,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia.
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.