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 Lebanon and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Infiniti to the grunge 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 Don Cherry. All the underground hits.
All The J.B.'s tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scott Walker + Sunn O))) record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 sitar and an arpeggiator 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 linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sex Pistols,
Nation of Ulysses,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Fluxion,
Arab on Radar,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Motions,
The Count Five,
Swell Maps,
Eric Copeland,
Magma,
Cameo,
Gil Scott Heron,
Jerry's Kids,
Bang On A Can,
Heaven 17,
Radiohead,
These Immortal Souls,
Brothers Johnson,
Slick Rick,
Visage,
Man Eating Sloth,
Spandau Ballet,
Can,
New York Dolls,
The Slits,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Model 500,
La Düsseldorf,
Bill Wells,
T.S.O.L.,
Matthew Bourne,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Radio Birdman,
Howard Jones,
Letta Mbulu,
World's Most,
Harmonia,
Gang Green,
Crispy Ambulance,
Rod Modell,
Boogie Down Productions,
Neil Young,
Stetsasonic,
Gichy Dan,
Section 25,
The Fuzztones,
Michelle Simonal,
Don Cherry,
Dual Sessions,
Depeche Mode,
The Buckinghams,
Pagans,
Al Stewart,
Graham Central Station,
L. Decosne,
Das Ding,
The Remains,
Country Teasers,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Intrusion,
Blake Baxter,
Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review.
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.