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 Latvia and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Severed Heads to the funk 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 Black Flag. All the underground hits.
All Bill Wells tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris Corsano record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a sitar 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 harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Alarm Clocks,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Five Americans,
DJ Sneak,
Rapeman,
Crash Course in Science,
Rites of Spring,
The Pretty Things,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Stiv Bators,
Zapp,
cv313,
Throbbing Gristle,
Ponytail,
X-Ray Spex,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Vladislav Delay,
Fluxion,
John Foxx,
Liliput,
The Selecter,
James White and The Blacks,
DJ Style,
The Dirtbombs,
Josef K,
Eric B and Rakim,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
D'Angelo,
Oneida,
Flamin' Groovies,
Hasil Adkins,
Big Daddy Kane,
the Association,
The Red Krayola,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Scientists,
The Motions,
Brothers Johnson,
Mad Mike,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Dead Boys,
Quando Quango,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Hoover,
Robert Wyatt,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Black Moon,
Peter & Gordon,
John Lydon,
Radiohead,
Anakelly,
June of 44,
Albert Ayler,
Camberwell Now,
Bobby Sherman,
The Cramps,
Judy Mowatt,
Saccharine Trust,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Derrick Morgan,
Joensuu 1685, Joensuu 1685, Joensuu 1685, Joensuu 1685.
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.