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 Armenia and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Sonics to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Altered Images. All the underground hits.
All Crash Course in Science tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Massinfluence record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 808 and a snare 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 snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Motions,
Avey Tare,
The Toasters,
New York Dolls,
Blancmange,
Lindisfarne,
These Immortal Souls,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Alice Coltrane,
The Associates,
Stiv Bators,
Brothers Johnson,
Reuben Wilson,
Boz Scaggs,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Black Sheep,
Duran Duran,
Nas,
R.M.O.,
The Barracudas,
Agent Orange,
Bobby Womack,
Das Ding,
Cluster,
Aloha Tigers,
Lightning Bolt,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
John Lydon,
The Doobie Brothers,
Drive Like Jehu,
Banda Bassotti,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Sarah Menescal,
Donald Byrd,
Skriet,
Lalann,
Bobby Sherman,
Nico,
Quadrant,
The Slackers,
The Alarm Clocks,
Graham Central Station,
The Mummies,
Tres Demented,
Tommy Roe,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Amazonics,
Gastr Del Sol,
Crispian St. Peters,
Wally Richardson,
Faust,
Radiohead,
Motorama,
Sparks,
Minny Pops,
Saccharine Trust,
Danielle Patucci,
Gerry Rafferty,
D'Angelo,
X-102,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Wake, The Wake, The Wake, The Wake.
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.