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 Guinea and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Lyon.
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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Lower 48 to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Matthew Bourne. All the underground hits.
All The Cure tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kas Product record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a linndrum 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 marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Pierre Henry,
Eric Copeland,
Arab on Radar,
Camouflage,
The Durutti Column,
Henry Cow,
The Buckinghams,
Cal Tjader,
Eurythmics,
Dual Sessions,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Clear Light,
Qualms,
Amazonics,
Glenn Branca,
Susan Cadogan,
Kevin Saunderson,
Nik Kershaw,
Camberwell Now,
Rakim,
Steve Hackett,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
8 Eyed Spy,
Nils Olav,
Judy Mowatt,
Ponytail,
The Martian,
Mission of Burma,
Porter Ricks,
Matthew Halsall,
Wolf Eyes,
Morten Harket,
Bad Manners,
Desert Stars,
Pulsallama,
The Last Poets,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Ultravox,
Heaven 17,
Rhythm & Sound,
La Düsseldorf,
B.T. Express,
Danielle Patucci,
The American Breed,
The Zeros,
Pere Ubu,
The Standells,
The Barracudas,
The Cure,
Sarah Menescal,
Accadde A,
The Fall,
Albert Ayler,
Curtis Mayfield,
Faraquet,
Tom Boy,
Ralphi Rosario,
Shoche,
Barbara Tucker,
Brand Nubian,
Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs.
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.