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 Guatemala and from Toronto.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 spring reverb 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 Lightning Bolt to the disco 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 June of 44. All the underground hits.
All Radiopuhelimet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The United States of America 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a spring reverb 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 harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mantronix,
Supertramp,
Nils Olav,
X-101,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Minny Pops,
The Neon Judgement,
The Residents,
Cybotron,
This Heat,
Mr. Review,
AZ,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Radio Birdman,
June Days,
D'Angelo,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Moleskins,
the Germs,
Franke,
Delon & Dalcan,
Babytalk,
Dorothy Ashby,
Dead Boys,
Shuggie Otis,
The Busters,
The Divine Comedy,
Crispy Ambulance,
Stetsasonic,
Half Japanese,
Tomorrow,
Deadbeat,
Cameo,
The Fugs,
Susan Cadogan,
Black Flag,
Eve St. Jones,
The Selecter,
Liliput,
Black Moon,
Fatback Band,
The Star Department,
Lalann,
Swans,
The Happenings,
Janne Schatter,
The Blackbyrds,
Skarface,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Talk Talk,
Spandau Ballet,
Model 500,
Harmonia,
Arcadia,
LL Cool J,
Slave,
Flipper,
Bobby Hutcherson,
X-102, X-102, X-102, X-102.
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.