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 Bahamas and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare 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 Ultramagnetic MC's to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band. All the underground hits.
All Dorothy Ashby tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vainqueur 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Intrusion record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Selecter,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
the Fania All-Stars,
Gil Scott Heron,
Jerry's Kids,
Procol Harum,
Das Ding,
Skriet,
Joe Finger,
Fugazi,
Boredoms,
The Fortunes,
Q and Not U,
Derrick May,
Scrapy,
Piero Umiliani,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Happenings,
UT,
Thee Headcoats,
Audionom,
Popol Vuh,
Ultra Naté,
Talk Talk,
Magma,
Wings,
Khruangbin,
John Foxx,
The Sonics,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
DJ Sneak,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
John Lydon,
Hardrive,
Saccharine Trust,
Camberwell Now,
Sarah Menescal,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Moody Blues,
Monks,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Roy Ayers,
Throbbing Gristle,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Kevin Saunderson,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Maleditus Sound,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
U.S. Maple,
Sam Rivers,
The Monochrome Set,
Accadde A,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Monks,
Whodini,
Stockholm Monsters,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Mo-Dettes,
Wally Richardson,
CMW,
Prince Buster,
Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys.
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.