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 United States and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Second Layer to the rap 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 Lee Hazlewood. All the underground hits.
All James Chance & The Contortions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Parry Music record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a snare 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?
Fort Wilson Riot,
Au Pairs,
The Alarm Clocks,
David Bowie,
Lakeside,
Tubeway Army,
Camberwell Now,
The Evens,
The Saints,
Minor Threat,
Aloha Tigers,
Yaz,
Roxy Music,
Tres Demented,
Japan,
Hot Snakes,
Bush Tetras,
Sister Nancy,
Alton Ellis,
Rites of Spring,
Joey Negro,
T.S.O.L.,
Smog,
Roger Hodgson,
Mission of Burma,
The Golliwogs,
The Zeros,
Interpol,
Deepchord,
Monolake,
Joy Division,
Bob Dylan,
Saccharine Trust,
Derrick May,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Angels of Light,
Sällskapet,
The Slits,
Icehouse,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Underground Resistance,
Todd Terry,
Warren Ellis,
Swans,
Grey Daturas,
Mad Mike,
Fad Gadget,
Los Fastidios,
Howard Jones,
Camouflage,
Michelle Simonal,
Wasted Youth,
Eurythmics,
Frankie Knuckles,
Skarface,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
48th St. Collective,
B.T. Express,
R.M.O.,
The Blues Magoos,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Cybotron, Cybotron, Cybotron, Cybotron.
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.