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 Philippines and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the 808 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 Make Up to the techno 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 the Slits. All the underground hits.
All Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a clarinet 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 arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Blues Magoos,
Desert Stars,
The Real Kids,
Robert Wyatt,
Theoretical Girls,
Saccharine Trust,
June Days,
Ponytail,
New York Dolls,
Loose Ends,
EPMD,
The Mojo Men,
Lou Reed,
Public Enemy,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Dave Gahan,
The Smiths,
Boz Scaggs,
The Monochrome Set,
Circle Jerks,
Marvin Gaye,
Pantaleimon,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Gang Starr,
Scott Walker,
The Pretty Things,
John Coltrane,
Tim Buckley,
The Fall,
Pagans,
The Cramps,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Slits,
Ronan,
Joe Finger,
Panda Bear,
Black Sheep,
Kerri Chandler,
Kerrie Biddell,
Warsaw,
Siglo XX,
Black Bananas,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Electric Prunes,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Susan Cadogan,
Black Flag,
Dual Sessions,
Ten City,
Davy DMX,
The Five Americans,
Crispian St. Peters,
Easy Going,
Sexual Harrassment,
Jesper Dahlback,
Lyres,
June of 44, June of 44, June of 44, June of 44.
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.