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 Nicaragua and from Houston.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 The Busters to the techno 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 Stooges. All the underground hits.
All Radiohead tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Public Image Ltd. 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer 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 arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Inner City,
New Order,
Public Enemy,
Sandy B,
Flash Fearless,
Maurizio,
Pulsallama,
Eli Mardock,
L. Decosne,
Gang of Four,
Aaron Thompson,
Soft Machine,
June of 44,
Spoonie Gee,
Camouflage,
the Sonics,
Bill Near,
The Young Rascals,
JFA,
Marmalade,
Visage,
Jerry's Kids,
PIL,
Radiopuhelimet,
Rapeman,
John Cale,
Lower 48,
Eric Copeland,
A Certain Ratio,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Reagan Youth,
Alice Coltrane,
Rhythm & Sound,
Mo-Dettes,
Arab on Radar,
Quadrant,
X-102,
Moebius,
The Stooges,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Ultravox,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
D'Angelo,
The Beau Brummels,
Bobby Byrd,
Andrew Hill,
Johnny Clarke,
Au Pairs,
Idris Muhammad,
Avey Tare,
The Velvet Underground,
the Germs,
Steve Hackett,
Althea and Donna,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Derrick Morgan,
Bush Tetras,
The Blues Magoos,
Franke,
The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies.
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.