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 Luxembourg and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Charles Mingus to the grime 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 Bobby Sherman. All the underground hits.
All Amon Düül tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Copeland record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a 808 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 oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Flesh Eaters,
Alphaville,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Lalann,
Pantytec,
The Buckinghams,
Faust,
These Immortal Souls,
Freddie Wadling,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Skaos,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Eric B and Rakim,
Depeche Mode,
Bush Tetras,
Mission of Burma,
Visage,
Cameo,
Godley & Creme,
The Motions,
Marine Girls,
Cal Tjader,
Ultra Naté,
Suicide,
The Durutti Column,
The Grass Roots,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Tim Buckley,
Amazonics,
Masters at Work,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Cluster,
Chris Corsano,
Crooked Eye,
Matthew Halsall,
Amon Düül,
Roger Hodgson,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Scientists,
The Divine Comedy,
Popol Vuh,
Minutemen,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Maurizio,
Jacques Brel,
Black Sheep,
Pulsallama,
Kayak,
Sällskapet,
a-ha,
Cymande,
The Gladiators,
The Associates,
Boz Scaggs,
Ornette Coleman,
The Searchers,
Surgeon,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex.
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.