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 New Zealand and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Stockholm.
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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Cameo to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Aswad tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lightning Bolt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a 808 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 an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Donny Hathaway,
Sarah Menescal,
the Swans,
The Pretty Things,
The Fortunes,
The J.B.'s,
Idris Muhammad,
Flamin' Groovies,
Anthony Braxton,
Youth Brigade,
Arab on Radar,
FM Einheit,
Rufus Thomas,
Circle Jerks,
Severed Heads,
Altered Images,
Banda Bassotti,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Reuben Wilson,
Maleditus Sound,
The Stooges,
Roxy Music,
Derrick May,
Piero Umiliani,
MC5,
Glenn Branca,
Scientists,
Blossom Toes,
Kurtis Blow,
Infiniti,
The Golliwogs,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Lower 48,
Section 25,
Das Ding,
Sister Nancy,
Nils Olav,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
A Certain Ratio,
Crispy Ambulance,
June Days,
The Blackbyrds,
Gastr Del Sol,
Jandek,
Mission of Burma,
F. McDonald,
Joy Division,
Bobby Byrd,
Procol Harum,
The Saints,
U.S. Maple,
Connie Case,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Tom Boy,
Wings,
Pagans,
Average White Band,
Rekid,
Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!.
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.