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 Nicaragua and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Madrid.
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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the oboe 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 Gian Franco Pienzio to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Flamin' Groovies. All the underground hits.
All Roxy Music tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-Ray Spex record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 snare and a güiro 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 sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quantec,
Robert Hood,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Crispian St. Peters,
Minutemen,
Eric B and Rakim,
Wally Richardson,
Model 500,
Delta 5,
a-ha,
Anakelly,
The Vogues,
Charles Mingus,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Beau Brummels,
Archie Shepp,
Amazonics,
Sight & Sound,
Mo-Dettes,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Boz Scaggs,
The Saints,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Swell Maps,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Zapp,
Talk Talk,
Stiv Bators,
Shuggie Otis,
Bad Manners,
Excepter,
Soulsonic Force,
Loose Ends,
Franke,
Shoche,
The Last Poets,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Stereo Dub,
Gong,
Connie Case,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Moby Grape,
Royal Trux,
Television Personalities,
MC5,
Kerrie Biddell,
The American Breed,
Jeff Lynne,
Jimmy McGriff,
Electric Prunes,
the Swans,
Bluetip,
Jeff Mills,
Brothers Johnson,
Suicide,
These Immortal Souls,
Jacques Brel,
Ornette Coleman,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Sonic Youth,
Kurtis Blow,
Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra.
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.