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 Grenada and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Lagos.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Jerry's Kids to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Sex Pistols. All the underground hits.
All Swans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lee Hazlewood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a rhodes 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 snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rapeman,
John Holt,
Cymande,
B.T. Express,
Inner City,
Swell Maps,
Nik Kershaw,
Depeche Mode,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Scan 7,
Cybotron,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Zeros,
Model 500,
Fatback Band,
Throbbing Gristle,
Leonard Cohen,
Clear Light,
Gang Gang Dance,
Lyres,
Rites of Spring,
Bobby Hutcherson,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Eurythmics,
Nico,
The Tremeloes,
Excepter,
Radio Birdman,
Marvin Gaye,
The Fuzztones,
New Age Steppers,
Gong,
Electric Prunes,
Blossom Toes,
Judy Mowatt,
the Sonics,
the Fania All-Stars,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Altered Images,
Royal Trux,
Monolake,
Kool Moe Dee,
World's Most,
Archie Shepp,
Spandau Ballet,
Malaria!,
China Crisis,
Ten City,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Rosa Yemen,
T.S.O.L.,
T. Rex,
Newcleus,
Bang On A Can,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Litter,
James White and The Blacks,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Bill Wells,
Robert Görl,
The Monochrome Set,
CMW,
Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters.
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.