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 Niger and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the sitar 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 The Count Five 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 Gang Gang Dance. All the underground hits.
All Deepchord tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Curtis Mayfield 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Swans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Byrd,
Black Bananas,
Scott Walker,
Ludus,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
a-ha,
the Fania All-Stars,
Harry Pussy,
Icehouse,
Glambeats Corp.,
Neil Young,
Avey Tare,
8 Eyed Spy,
Jacques Brel,
Danielle Patucci,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Electric Prunes,
T.S.O.L.,
Lindisfarne,
Accadde A,
The Flesh Eaters,
Hoover,
Soulsonic Force,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Flipper,
Funkadelic,
Pet Shop Boys,
Ultra Naté,
Rod Modell,
Amon Düül II,
The Gun Club,
The Move,
Cecil Taylor,
John Lydon,
F. McDonald,
Massinfluence,
Clear Light,
Kayak,
Monks,
Donald Byrd,
U.S. Maple,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Moleskins,
the Normal,
Nico,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Delon & Dalcan,
Mission of Burma,
Marc Almond,
Althea and Donna,
Delta 5,
Drive Like Jehu,
Don Cherry,
Mad Mike,
Josef K,
Supertramp,
The J.B.'s,
Lou Christie,
The Human League,
Visage, Visage, Visage, Visage.
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.