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 Chile and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Monks to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Electric Prunes. All the underground hits.
All Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amazonics record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a theremin 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 synthesizer and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slick Rick,
Trumans Water,
Dead Boys,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Rotary Connection,
R.M.O.,
Young Marble Giants,
Nas,
JFA,
This Heat,
La Düsseldorf,
Rites of Spring,
John Cale,
U.S. Maple,
Shuggie Otis,
Monks,
Gang Gang Dance,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Angels of Light,
Easy Going,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Desert Stars,
Fat Boys,
The Golliwogs,
Silicon Teens,
Crime,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Glenn Branca,
Pulsallama,
Lyres,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Piero Umiliani,
Radiohead,
48th St. Collective,
Monolake,
Infiniti,
Brick,
Jeff Lynne,
Eden Ahbez,
These Immortal Souls,
Second Layer,
Tres Demented,
Flipper,
The Count Five,
Iggy Pop,
Pharoah Sanders,
Brass Construction,
Sight & Sound,
John Foxx,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Martian,
Youth Brigade,
Cal Tjader,
ABC,
The Seeds,
Mars,
Drive Like Jehu,
Bad Manners,
Ituana,
Sex Pistols,
Big Daddy Kane,
Sun Ra,
The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos.
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.