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 Guatemala and from Winnipeg.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Fania All-Stars to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 B.T. Express. All the underground hits.
All Mandrill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Pus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron 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 linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dead Boys,
The Kinks,
Al Stewart,
DJ Sneak,
Dawn Penn,
Alison Limerick,
The Buckinghams,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Bronski Beat,
The Techniques,
Pierre Henry,
Cluster,
Tears for Fears,
Robert Hood,
Deepchord,
Blancmange,
The Gladiators,
Bobby Sherman,
Eric Dolphy,
Eden Ahbez,
Tropical Tobacco,
Ossler,
the Slits,
Young Marble Giants,
Rakim,
AZ,
X-102,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Fluxion,
The Cowsills,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Letta Mbulu,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Rekid,
David Axelrod,
Massinfluence,
Royal Trux,
Little Man,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Echospace,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Dirtbombs,
New Order,
Minny Pops,
The Blackbyrds,
Joyce Sims,
Amon Düül II,
Derrick May,
The Count Five,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Easy Going,
Ornette Coleman,
The Flesh Eaters,
Kerri Chandler,
Jeff Mills,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lucky Dragons,
Moss Icon,
U.S. Maple,
the Sonics,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Misunderstood,
X-101,
Tres Demented, Tres Demented, Tres Demented, Tres Demented.
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.