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 Libya and from Edmonton.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Angry Samoans to the rap 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 Gang Green. All the underground hits.
All The Moleskins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rapeman 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb 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 harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Angels of Light,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Lou Reed,
Kenny Larkin,
Royal Trux,
Spoonie Gee,
Yusef Lateef,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Au Pairs,
Don Cherry,
Basic Channel,
New York Dolls,
Lou Christie,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Bauhaus,
Nils Olav,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Fugs,
The Skatalites,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Soft Machine,
Animal Collective,
Tubeway Army,
Adolescents,
This Heat,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Charles Mingus,
Pussy Galore,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Maurizio,
Flamin' Groovies,
Kayak,
The Index,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Count Five,
Lalann,
Brothers Johnson,
Bobby Sherman,
Eric Dolphy,
Fear,
David McCallum,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Cheater Slicks,
kango's stein massive,
Lakeside,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Scientists,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Patti Smith,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Simply Red,
Gong,
Thompson Twins,
The Litter,
Smog,
CMW,
The Names,
The Slackers,
The Fortunes,
Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls.
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.