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 Turkmenistan and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Black Pus to the crunk 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx. All the underground hits.
All Gian Franco Pienzio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Make Up 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an oboe 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 organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terrestrial Tones,
kango's stein massive,
Lebanon Hanover,
Dead Boys,
Eve St. Jones,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Monks,
Mantronix,
Amon Düül,
Suburban Knight,
The Blackbyrds,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Cluster,
Lungfish,
Simply Red,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Flipper,
Deepchord,
Sarah Menescal,
June of 44,
Radio Birdman,
The Black Dice,
Slick Rick,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Ohio Players,
Hardrive,
Bad Manners,
Traffic Nightmare,
Nico,
The Happenings,
Fat Boys,
Minny Pops,
Absolute Body Control,
Girls At Our Best!,
Newcleus,
Technova,
Warsaw,
Cecil Taylor,
Mr. Review,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Delon & Dalcan,
Shoche,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Smog,
Country Teasers,
Ituana,
Warren Ellis,
Max Romeo,
Erasure,
AZ,
Alton Ellis,
Stockholm Monsters,
Dawn Penn,
Ronan,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Tres Demented,
Jeff Mills,
Lou Christie,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Alphaville,
Pussy Galore,
Barclay James Harvest, Barclay James Harvest, Barclay James Harvest, Barclay James Harvest.
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.