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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Pulsallama. All the underground hits.
All Zero Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alton Ellis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a marimba 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 güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Erykah Badu,
Lower 48,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Angels of Light,
Icehouse,
Magazine,
Jeff Mills,
Das Ding,
PIL,
Terry Callier,
Marcia Griffiths,
Crispy Ambulance,
Flamin' Groovies,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Marc Almond,
Hashim,
Japan,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Kerrie Biddell,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Fugazi,
Joyce Sims,
Patti Smith,
Dual Sessions,
Model 500,
The Standells,
Alice Coltrane,
Robert Görl,
The Raincoats,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Suicide,
The Dirtbombs,
Henry Cow,
Bobby Womack,
The Slackers,
Bobby Sherman,
Black Pus,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Altered Images,
Ronan,
Skarface,
Sight & Sound,
The Cramps,
The Buckinghams,
Cal Tjader,
Black Bananas,
John Lydon,
Dawn Penn,
Minnie Riperton,
X-102,
The Sonics,
Swans,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Blossom Toes,
The Wake,
Wasted Youth,
Television Personalities,
Excepter,
Circle Jerks,
The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks.
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.