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 Djibouti and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Alphaville to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Sixth Finger. All the underground hits.
All Dark Day tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radiohead record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 mellotron and a sitar 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 oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
These Immortal Souls,
The Slits,
Franke,
The Seeds,
Ludus,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Technova,
Bobby Byrd,
Slave,
Marine Girls,
Morten Harket,
The Busters,
Letta Mbulu,
Wire,
Harry Pussy,
Matthew Halsall,
Grey Daturas,
Nirvana,
Steve Hackett,
Roger Hodgson,
The Buckinghams,
Ultimate Spinach,
Crispian St. Peters,
Vladislav Delay,
Grauzone,
Kerrie Biddell,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Quando Quango,
Marmalade,
Agent Orange,
F. McDonald,
Jacob Miller,
Howard Jones,
Niagra,
Brothers Johnson,
The Grass Roots,
Lakeside,
Animal Collective,
Neu!,
The Offenders,
Buzzcocks,
Wally Richardson,
E-Dancer,
L. Decosne,
Symarip,
Bob Dylan,
The Selecter,
Al Stewart,
The Count Five,
Surgeon,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Max Romeo,
Thompson Twins,
Juan Atkins,
Intrusion,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Electric Prunes,
Qualms,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Sun City Girls,
The Residents, The Residents, The Residents, The Residents.
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.