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 Italy and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Lalo Schifrin to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Vogues. All the underground hits.
All John Foxx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Cale record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba 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 snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sexual Harrassment,
Simply Red,
Neil Young,
Judy Mowatt,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Iggy Pop,
The Cure,
Deepchord,
Icehouse,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
the Soft Cell,
Accadde A,
Visage,
The Skatalites,
Pierre Henry,
The Zeros,
Funky Four + One,
Nico,
The Birthday Party,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Aswad,
Eddi Front,
Reagan Youth,
The Blues Magoos,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Happenings,
Idris Muhammad,
the Normal,
Los Fastidios,
Panda Bear,
the Germs,
U.S. Maple,
Minnie Riperton,
8 Eyed Spy,
Clear Light,
Can,
Public Enemy,
Todd Rundgren,
Marine Girls,
Gong,
Matthew Bourne,
Stiv Bators,
Popol Vuh,
Kenny Larkin,
Joe Finger,
Black Pus,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Young Rascals,
The Electric Prunes,
UT,
Arthur Verocai,
MDC,
Lindisfarne,
Todd Terry,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Carl Craig,
Organ,
Boogie Down Productions,
T. Rex,
Quando Quango, Quando Quango, Quando Quango, Quando Quango.
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.