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 Burkina and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the 808 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 Iggy Pop to the crunk 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 Oppenheimer Analysis. All the underground hits.
All In Retrospect tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultramagnetic MC's 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 mellotron and a linndrum 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 mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arab on Radar,
The Angels of Light,
Cameo,
The Misunderstood,
E-Dancer,
Theoretical Girls,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Ultra Naté,
Kool Moe Dee,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Dennis Brown,
Accadde A,
Wasted Youth,
Chrome,
The Alarm Clocks,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Sandy B,
Yazoo,
Supertramp,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
John Coltrane,
Harpers Bizarre,
Barrington Levy,
Don Cherry,
Half Japanese,
Ponytail,
Joyce Sims,
Camberwell Now,
World's Most,
The Cramps,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Vogues,
Jesper Dahlback,
Unwound,
Gang Gang Dance,
Rakim,
Kayak,
The Pretty Things,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Niagra,
Lou Christie,
Eden Ahbez,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Chris Corsano,
the Sonics,
Frankie Knuckles,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Fire Engines,
Intrusion,
Bob Dylan,
Dawn Penn,
Agitation Free,
Motorama,
New York Dolls,
Cal Tjader,
Boredoms,
Excepter,
Jeru the Damaja,
Joensuu 1685,
Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads.
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.