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 Antigua and from Seoul.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Doors to the punk 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 EPMD. All the underground hits.
All Scratch Acid tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Moody Blues record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a snare 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 arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Leaves,
Fela Kuti,
Duran Duran,
The Cowsills,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Theoretical Girls,
The Victims,
Ultravox,
Michelle Simonal,
Pylon,
Pole,
Drexciya,
Chris Corsano,
Darondo,
The Fuzztones,
Technova,
The Mojo Men,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bad Manners,
JFA,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Bobby Womack,
Pierre Henry,
Josef K,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Derrick May,
Lou Christie,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
the Sonics,
Jacob Miller,
Freddie Wadling,
Sällskapet,
Ken Boothe,
Sex Pistols,
Swans,
The Fall,
James White and The Blacks,
Gong,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Don Cherry,
Goldenarms,
the Swans,
Radio Birdman,
Ossler,
Grey Daturas,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Agent Orange,
The Skatalites,
Siglo XX,
Urselle,
Roy Ayers,
Minor Threat,
Tim Buckley,
Cal Tjader,
Eric B and Rakim,
Metal Thangz,
The Litter,
The Divine Comedy,
Panda Bear,
A Certain Ratio,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
June Days, June Days, June Days, June Days.
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.