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 Spain and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 harpsichord 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 Au Pairs 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 Con Funk Shun. All the underground hits.
All Mark Hollis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Golliwogs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 a linndrum and an arpeggiator 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 oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Modern Lovers,
Outsiders,
the Soft Cell,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Hardrive,
Sparks,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Funkadelic,
The Dirtbombs,
Saccharine Trust,
Jawbox,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
EPMD,
The Remains,
The Count Five,
L. Decosne,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Gang of Four,
The New Christs,
Pagans,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Raincoats,
The Fuzztones,
The Music Machine,
Icehouse,
Leonard Cohen,
John Lydon,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
LL Cool J,
Minutemen,
The Neon Judgement,
Pierre Henry,
Interpol,
Camouflage,
Los Fastidios,
The Shadows of Knight,
Motorama,
Index,
Soft Machine,
Mad Mike,
T. Rex,
Aloha Tigers,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Donny Hathaway,
John Cale,
Scott Walker,
The Gories,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Moebius,
The Birthday Party,
In Retrospect,
Bob Dylan,
Little Man,
Alison Limerick,
Alton Ellis,
Tropical Tobacco,
Gil Scott Heron,
Japan,
Dead Boys,
Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring.
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.