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 Korea North and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 One Last Wish. All the underground hits.
All Excepter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Derrick Morgan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a harpsichord 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 harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Pop Group,
Animal Collective,
Idris Muhammad,
Guru Guru,
Bill Wells,
the Fania All-Stars,
China Crisis,
Glenn Branca,
the Soft Cell,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
10cc,
Livin' Joy,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Standells,
Big Daddy Kane,
Faust,
Harpers Bizarre,
Wally Richardson,
48th St. Collective,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Pantaleimon,
The Electric Prunes,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Victims,
The Walker Brothers,
The Slits,
Trumans Water,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Simply Red,
Smog,
These Immortal Souls,
Desert Stars,
Circle Jerks,
Scrapy,
Intrusion,
Scion,
Minor Threat,
Organ,
Rufus Thomas,
The Evens,
Bush Tetras,
The Music Machine,
Wire,
Pet Shop Boys,
Moby Grape,
K-Klass,
Thee Headcoats,
Deepchord,
Bad Manners,
Pulsallama,
Zero Boys,
Quando Quango,
Maleditus Sound,
Yusef Lateef,
Au Pairs,
Eurythmics,
Black Pus,
Q and Not U,
The Wake,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Index, The Index, The Index, The Index.
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.