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 Guatemala and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Slits to the dance 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 Grauzone. All the underground hits.
All Y Pants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Agent Orange 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Swans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alton Ellis,
Terry Callier,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Loose Ends,
Tubeway Army,
The Durutti Column,
the Bar-Kays,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Faraquet,
Cal Tjader,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Electric Prunes,
Bad Manners,
Pierre Henry,
Mark Hollis,
Boredoms,
Shoche,
Flipper,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Dennis Brown,
Alice Coltrane,
the Human League,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Warren Ellis,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Todd Terry,
Tom Boy,
David Bowie,
Joyce Sims,
The Doors,
The Velvet Underground,
Simply Red,
Camberwell Now,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Average White Band,
Visage,
Pulsallama,
CMW,
Todd Rundgren,
The Last Poets,
Subhumans,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Sonics,
Swans,
John Cale,
Laurel Aitken,
The Saints,
Das Ding,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
H. Thieme,
Nas,
Guru Guru,
The Residents,
Max Romeo,
Aloha Tigers,
Lalo Schifrin,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Sisters of Mercy,
MC5,
Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti.
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.