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 Sri Lanka and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 chamberlin 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 PIL to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Eric B and Rakim. All the underground hits.
All 48th St. Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Section 25 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 mellotron and an arpeggiator 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 rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Litter,
The Saints,
Spoonie Gee,
Ultravox,
Little Man,
Country Teasers,
Animal Collective,
Peter and Kerry,
Cal Tjader,
Schoolly D,
Deakin,
KRS-One,
the Association,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Blossom Toes,
Matthew Bourne,
Barbara Tucker,
Bush Tetras,
La Düsseldorf,
The Offenders,
Zapp,
Q65,
Lou Reed,
Marine Girls,
Organ,
DJ Style,
The Monochrome Set,
Agitation Free,
James White and The Blacks,
The Wake,
Iggy Pop,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Electric Prunes,
Scan 7,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Smog,
8 Eyed Spy,
Danielle Patucci,
Loose Ends,
Hot Snakes,
Oneida,
David Bowie,
Metal Thangz,
Letta Mbulu,
The Misunderstood,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Alice Coltrane,
The Moody Blues,
Eli Mardock,
Make Up,
Roxy Music,
Gabor Szabo,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Durutti Column,
Camberwell Now,
Fat Boys,
Todd Terry,
Howard Jones,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Lower 48,
Alison Limerick,
The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things.
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.