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 Saudi Arabia and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
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 Real Kids to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 John Foxx. All the underground hits.
All Soft Cell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Con Funk Shun 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a synthesizer 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 snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Hutcherson,
Blancmange,
F. McDonald,
Procol Harum,
The Flesh Eaters,
Crooked Eye,
Avey Tare,
The Skatalites,
Alison Limerick,
Franke,
Derrick Morgan,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Yusef Lateef,
Pagans,
June of 44,
Morten Harket,
The Knickerbockers,
Animal Collective,
Cecil Taylor,
Minutemen,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Das Ding,
Shoche,
Dead Boys,
The Monochrome Set,
Magazine,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Wire,
Porter Ricks,
Hasil Adkins,
U.S. Maple,
DNA,
Lyres,
Wings,
Kerri Chandler,
Arthur Verocai,
Drive Like Jehu,
Colin Newman,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
London Community Gospel Choir,
John Holt,
Warsaw,
Intrusion,
Buzzcocks,
Clear Light,
Eric B and Rakim,
Amon Düül II,
cv313,
Harpers Bizarre,
Scrapy,
Ten City,
Groovy Waters,
Bobby Sherman,
The Barracudas,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
8 Eyed Spy,
Average White Band,
Arcadia,
Crispy Ambulance,
Bill Wells,
Soul Sonic Force, Soul Sonic Force, Soul Sonic Force, Soul Sonic Force.
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.