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 Azerbaijan and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Stockholm.
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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Y Pants to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Leaves. All the underground hits.
All Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aaron Thompson 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin 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 mellotron and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Country Teasers,
Fela Kuti,
The Real Kids,
OOIOO,
Scrapy,
Los Fastidios,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Kaleidoscope,
Eric Dolphy,
Chris & Cosey,
Soulsonic Force,
Yusef Lateef,
Nirvana,
The Walker Brothers,
Mark Hollis,
Skaos,
Nick Fraelich,
the Slits,
Harry Pussy,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Faust,
Metal Thangz,
The Monks,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Kas Product,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Royal Trux,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Aloha Tigers,
Sun City Girls,
These Immortal Souls,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Franke,
China Crisis,
8 Eyed Spy,
Sarah Menescal,
Charles Mingus,
The Knickerbockers,
Bobby Byrd,
Ice-T,
Khruangbin,
Blossom Toes,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Neil Young,
a-ha,
Kerrie Biddell,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Black Flag,
The Buckinghams,
Simply Red,
Henry Cow,
Half Japanese,
Magma,
E-Dancer,
Maurizio,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Schoolly D,
Howard Jones,
Japan,
Depeche Mode,
Nik Kershaw,
Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott.
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.