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 Liechtenstein and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Wire show in Watford.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Wings to the funk 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 Gong. All the underground hits.
All Kool G Rap & DJ Polo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every F. McDonald record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 theremin 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 an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spandau Ballet,
Joy Division,
Japan,
One Last Wish,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Jacob Miller,
The Moody Blues,
Vladislav Delay,
Hot Snakes,
Ituana,
Yazoo,
The Index,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Scott Walker,
Rufus Thomas,
Henry Cow,
Jesper Dahlback,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Moleskins,
These Immortal Souls,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Saccharine Trust,
Lalo Schifrin,
Charles Mingus,
Yellowson,
Organ,
The Flesh Eaters,
Banda Bassotti,
Janne Schatter,
Porter Ricks,
R.M.O.,
the Association,
June Days,
The Trojans,
Circle Jerks,
The New Christs,
David McCallum,
Junior Murvin,
a-ha,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Nation of Ulysses,
Tears for Fears,
Bob Dylan,
John Coltrane,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Rapeman,
Quadrant,
Alice Coltrane,
8 Eyed Spy,
Aaron Thompson,
Slick Rick,
Tomorrow,
Parry Music,
The Residents,
Neil Young,
Cybotron,
Royal Trux,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Gichy Dan,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Selecter,
Newcleus,
Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios.
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.