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 Singapore and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Germs to the punk 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 Tim Buckley. All the underground hits.
All Intrusion tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Todd Rundgren record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an organ 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 clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Buckinghams,
Roger Hodgson,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
DJ Style,
John Holt,
Dorothy Ashby,
Grey Daturas,
Subhumans,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Toni Rubio,
Gichy Dan,
Television,
Roxy Music,
Tropical Tobacco,
Cluster,
Jeru the Damaja,
Rhythm & Sound,
Brand Nubian,
Wire,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Kas Product,
The Fire Engines,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Tremeloes,
F. McDonald,
Babytalk,
Outsiders,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Goldenarms,
Albert Ayler,
Echospace,
Deadbeat,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Ponytail,
Rod Modell,
Suicide,
Fad Gadget,
Fatback Band,
Bill Near,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Livin' Joy,
Amon Düül,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Malaria!,
The Durutti Column,
PIL,
The Martian,
Arcadia,
Thompson Twins,
Ronnie Foster,
The Fall,
Eli Mardock,
Grandmaster Flash,
Siglo XX,
Gong,
Chris Corsano,
The Saints,
Minny Pops,
Liliput,
Cameo,
Marine Girls,
The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy.
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.