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 Kosovo and from London.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the marimba 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 Harpers Bizarre to the dance 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 James Chance & The Contortions. All the underground hits.
All The Trojans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Maleditus Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet 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 theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eli Mardock,
James White and The Blacks,
Bobby Hutcherson,
FM Einheit,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Residents,
Shuggie Otis,
Boredoms,
Nico,
Sexual Harrassment,
Popol Vuh,
Gang Green,
John Lydon,
Lungfish,
Fad Gadget,
Junior Murvin,
The Doors,
Peter & Gordon,
Sonny Sharrock,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Kenny Larkin,
Jimmy McGriff,
Siglo XX,
Minnie Riperton,
Danielle Patucci,
Ralphi Rosario,
Al Stewart,
New York Dolls,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Inner City,
Dave Gahan,
The Red Krayola,
Cluster,
Smog,
The Standells,
The Offenders,
Public Enemy,
The Victims,
Glenn Branca,
Index,
Talk Talk,
The Wake,
Roy Ayers,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Guru Guru,
Kerrie Biddell,
Stockholm Monsters,
Vainqueur,
Intrusion,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Susan Cadogan,
Harmonia,
Ponytail,
Eddi Front,
Khruangbin,
ABBA,
The Velvet Underground,
Whodini, Whodini, Whodini, Whodini.
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.