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 Zambia and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Wire show in Watford.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 güiro 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 The Neon Judgement to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Arcadia. All the underground hits.
All The Trojans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a mellotron 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 organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Maurizio,
Kenny Larkin,
Jeff Mills,
Sister Nancy,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Raincoats,
Pussy Galore,
Crispy Ambulance,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Tommy Roe,
Quantec,
Tomorrow,
Sonic Youth,
Vainqueur,
Second Layer,
Blossom Toes,
Camouflage,
Warsaw,
Fela Kuti,
Toni Rubio,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
T. Rex,
New Age Steppers,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
X-Ray Spex,
Terry Callier,
Soft Machine,
Supertramp,
Moss Icon,
Jawbox,
the Bar-Kays,
The Fall,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Frankie Knuckles,
Marmalade,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Roxette,
Warren Ellis,
The Selecter,
Pulsallama,
Nation of Ulysses,
Wasted Youth,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Boz Scaggs,
The Five Americans,
Metal Thangz,
The United States of America,
The Blackbyrds,
Todd Rundgren,
Depeche Mode,
Drexciya,
Sarah Menescal,
The Black Dice,
Graham Central Station,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Kool Moe Dee,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Dark Day,
Eurythmics,
The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers.
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.