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 Paraguay and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Manchester.
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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Archie Shepp to the grunge 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 Roxy Music. All the underground hits.
All Anthony Braxton tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispian St. Peters 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a theremin 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 chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Isaac Hayes,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Johnny Clarke,
The Moleskins,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Television Personalities,
Marmalade,
Rufus Thomas,
Robert Hood,
Howard Jones,
The Toasters,
Monks,
Mars,
Mary Jane Girls,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Dirtbombs,
R.M.O.,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
David McCallum,
Whodini,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Bobbi Humphrey,
K-Klass,
Nick Fraelich,
A Certain Ratio,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Gang Starr,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Harpers Bizarre,
Stetsasonic,
Ossler,
L. Decosne,
The Raincoats,
Radiohead,
Bronski Beat,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Black Pus,
UT,
Talk Talk,
Suicide,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Crime,
Agent Orange,
Sällskapet,
Boogie Down Productions,
Hot Snakes,
Urselle,
Dead Boys,
U.S. Maple,
Fatback Band,
Andrew Hill,
OOIOO,
Archie Shepp,
Davy DMX,
Radio Birdman,
DJ Style,
Accadde A,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Sandy B,
Grauzone,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Soulsonic Force, Soulsonic Force, Soulsonic Force, Soulsonic Force.
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.