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 Mongolia and from New York.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 the Swans to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids. All the underground hits.
All Con Funk Shun tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Second Layer record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 synthesizer and a rhodes 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 mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Johnny Osbourne,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Skatalites,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Chris Corsano,
Crooked Eye,
Pussy Galore,
Ponytail,
Gong,
The Smiths,
Roy Ayers,
Zero Boys,
Matthew Bourne,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Surgeon,
DJ Style,
John Cale,
Pole,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Eddi Front,
Wolf Eyes,
The Walker Brothers,
Television,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Erasure,
FM Einheit,
The Vogues,
Soulsonic Force,
Drive Like Jehu,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
DNA,
Tears for Fears,
Electric Prunes,
Clear Light,
Althea and Donna,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Q and Not U,
The Remains,
Blossom Toes,
Nation of Ulysses,
Crispian St. Peters,
Main Source,
Juan Atkins,
Alice Coltrane,
Desert Stars,
Camouflage,
MDC,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Litter,
Freddie Wadling,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Glenn Branca,
Silicon Teens,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Gories,
Bluetip,
ABBA,
Dark Day,
Quantec,
Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys.
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.