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 Guinea-Bissau and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Mexico City.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the organ 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 Bobby Hutcherson to the dance 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 Amon Düül II. All the underground hits.
All Red Lorry Yellow Lorry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skriet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 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 organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-101,
Anakelly,
Quadrant,
Curtis Mayfield,
Sarah Menescal,
Oblivians,
Deakin,
Barclay James Harvest,
Dark Day,
Cluster,
Lungfish,
Lightning Bolt,
The Gap Band,
The Last Poets,
Marc Almond,
The Cure,
Maleditus Sound,
Circle Jerks,
The Tremeloes,
Hasil Adkins,
48th St. Collective,
Crispian St. Peters,
Reagan Youth,
Quando Quango,
Chris Corsano,
Matthew Bourne,
the Swans,
Funkadelic,
The Searchers,
The Names,
Brand Nubian,
Kaleidoscope,
Popol Vuh,
Delta 5,
The Dirtbombs,
Goldenarms,
The Move,
Jesper Dahlback,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Detroit Cobras,
Pantytec,
the Sonics,
The Standells,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Dead Boys,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Rekid,
Ronan,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Camouflage,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Charles Mingus,
Urselle,
Pussy Galore,
K-Klass,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Connie Case,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Wasted Youth,
Morten Harket,
Hashim, Hashim, Hashim, Hashim.
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.