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 Lebanon and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the theremin 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 The Evens to the grime 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 Davy DMX. All the underground hits.
All Camouflage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fort Wilson Riot 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a clarinet 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?
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Offenders,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Anakelly,
Mark Hollis,
The Slits,
Marc Almond,
Sixth Finger,
Amon Düül,
Heaven 17,
Thee Headcoats,
Hardrive,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Neu!,
The Sound,
Procol Harum,
MC5,
the Swans,
Cal Tjader,
Bob Dylan,
Nas,
Stockholm Monsters,
Spoonie Gee,
Mo-Dettes,
Matthew Bourne,
Henry Cow,
The Music Machine,
Alice Coltrane,
Josef K,
Ludus,
The Fuzztones,
The Flesh Eaters,
Rufus Thomas,
The New Christs,
The Black Dice,
Donny Hathaway,
Charles Mingus,
KRS-One,
Duran Duran,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Franke,
Cecil Taylor,
Althea and Donna,
AZ,
48th St. Collective,
Carl Craig,
Gang Green,
Soft Machine,
Fat Boys,
E-Dancer,
The United States of America,
The Tremeloes,
Cheater Slicks,
Vainqueur,
Sexual Harrassment,
Sight & Sound,
Erykah Badu,
The Blues Magoos,
Juan Atkins,
Toni Rubio,
Sam Rivers,
Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks.
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.