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 Namibia and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Glasgow.
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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Bad Manners to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Dead Boys. All the underground hits.
All MC5 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liliput record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a linndrum 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 clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David Bowie,
Pole,
Arthur Verocai,
Reagan Youth,
Derrick May,
Los Fastidios,
Audionom,
Niagra,
The Searchers,
Q65,
Letta Mbulu,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Colin Newman,
Bob Dylan,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Wolf Eyes,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Pussy Galore,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Y Pants,
Harry Pussy,
Archie Shepp,
Josef K,
The Dave Clark Five,
Jacques Brel,
Spandau Ballet,
The Black Dice,
DJ Sneak,
Henry Cow,
The Buckinghams,
Black Sheep,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Negative Approach,
Judy Mowatt,
Dennis Brown,
Pet Shop Boys,
Althea and Donna,
The Moleskins,
Boredoms,
Faust,
Porter Ricks,
Barrington Levy,
Suburban Knight,
Glambeats Corp.,
Jandek,
Rosa Yemen,
Essential Logic,
Oblivians,
Sam Rivers,
Blancmange,
John Lydon,
The Sonics,
Derrick Morgan,
Iggy Pop,
Lakeside,
Yaz,
Nirvana,
AZ,
Cymande,
Pantaleimon,
Severed Heads,
Boz Scaggs,
The Cure,
Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near.
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.