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 the UAE and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
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 Wake to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Beasts of Bourbon. All the underground hits.
All The Smoke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Sonics record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 a chamberlin and a linndrum 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 chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Talk Talk,
Curtis Mayfield,
Rod Modell,
The Stooges,
the Fania All-Stars,
Wasted Youth,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Magma,
Hoover,
Scrapy,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Sound,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Gories,
Crash Course in Science,
Audionom,
the Slits,
R.M.O.,
Adolescents,
The Angels of Light,
Supertramp,
Mission of Burma,
Fatback Band,
Y Pants,
Deepchord,
Andrew Hill,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Reuben Wilson,
Harpers Bizarre,
Sexual Harrassment,
Outsiders,
Arthur Verocai,
Absolute Body Control,
Johnny Osbourne,
Eddi Front,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Slick Rick,
Stereo Dub,
Monolake,
Warren Ellis,
Stiv Bators,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
the Germs,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Wake,
Desert Stars,
Wings,
The Cramps,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Sonic Youth,
Nas,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Pussy Galore,
Ultravox,
John Lydon,
Robert Wyatt,
The Associates,
The Happenings,
a-ha,
Hasil Adkins,
Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader.
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.