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 Hungary and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Calgary.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Organ to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Khruangbin. All the underground hits.
All Accadde A tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Letta Mbulu 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sällskapet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Public Enemy,
Talk Talk,
In Retrospect,
Jeff Lynne,
Kool Moe Dee,
Frankie Knuckles,
Jerry Gold Smith,
X-101,
10cc,
Bob Dylan,
Delon & Dalcan,
Mark Hollis,
Freddie Wadling,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Andrew Hill,
Robert Görl,
The Fortunes,
Franke,
Joe Smooth,
Groovy Waters,
Drexciya,
The Angels of Light,
L. Decosne,
Severed Heads,
Blancmange,
Electric Prunes,
Qualms,
The Dave Clark Five,
Anakelly,
Hardrive,
Silicon Teens,
Spandau Ballet,
The Moody Blues,
The American Breed,
Hoover,
Moebius,
The Neon Judgement,
Wolf Eyes,
Depeche Mode,
The Smiths,
Sun City Girls,
Connie Case,
The Young Rascals,
Fugazi,
Donald Byrd,
Motorama,
Nico,
Infiniti,
Lindisfarne,
Lalo Schifrin,
Johnny Clarke,
Con Funk Shun,
R.M.O.,
Kayak,
Hasil Adkins,
Excepter,
Joey Negro,
Schoolly D,
Scott Walker,
Darondo,
Eddi Front, Eddi Front, Eddi Front, Eddi Front.
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.