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 Syria and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Junior Murvin to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Iggy Pop. All the underground hits.
All Soul Sonic Force tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mary Jane Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a güiro 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 a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin 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 Seeds,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Pagans,
MDC,
The Searchers,
Gang Gang Dance,
Robert Hood,
Stiv Bators,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Dead C,
The Divine Comedy,
Little Man,
Soft Cell,
Jawbox,
Livin' Joy,
Wasted Youth,
Rites of Spring,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Sonics,
Nils Olav,
Easy Going,
Crime,
Jimmy McGriff,
Amon Düül,
Agent Orange,
ABC,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Flesh Eaters,
Roy Ayers,
Iggy Pop,
Connie Case,
U.S. Maple,
The Doobie Brothers,
Kool Moe Dee,
Ralphi Rosario,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
John Cale,
Brand Nubian,
Andrew Hill,
Cecil Taylor,
Brick,
Jeff Lynne,
Rhythm & Sound,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Lightning Bolt,
Mr. Review,
Ohio Players,
Kerri Chandler,
The Leaves,
Oneida,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Knickerbockers,
Terrestrial Tones,
10cc,
Fat Boys,
Wolf Eyes,
Dead Boys,
Quadrant,
Davy DMX,
This Heat,
Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone.
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.