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 Suriname and from Edmonton.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Fort Wilson Riot to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Sex Pistols. All the underground hits.
All London Community Gospel Choir tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Judy Mowatt 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a guitar 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 arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David Axelrod,
Hot Snakes,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Magazine,
Average White Band,
Ken Boothe,
Hasil Adkins,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Whodini,
Skarface,
Little Man,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Judy Mowatt,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Charles Mingus,
The Grass Roots,
Robert Wyatt,
a-ha,
kango's stein massive,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Fuzztones,
Ultimate Spinach,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Letta Mbulu,
The Dave Clark Five,
Hoover,
the Fania All-Stars,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Kenny Larkin,
Jeru the Damaja,
Sam Rivers,
Can,
Sight & Sound,
The Residents,
Glambeats Corp.,
James White and The Blacks,
EPMD,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Cameo,
Jerry's Kids,
Parry Music,
Oneida,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Circle Jerks,
Max Romeo,
Lucky Dragons,
Minny Pops,
Jesper Dahlback,
Bush Tetras,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
ABBA,
LL Cool J,
Lalann,
The Moleskins,
Livin' Joy,
China Crisis,
Altered Images,
The Angels of Light,
The Offenders,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Neon Judgement,
Audionom,
Saccharine Trust,
Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B.
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.