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 Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Mo-Dettes to the electroclash 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 The Star Department. All the underground hits.
All Man Eating Sloth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an organ 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 güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Victims,
Arab on Radar,
Barbara Tucker,
The Tremeloes,
B.T. Express,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Bootsy Collins,
Pulsallama,
The Martian,
Panda Bear,
Susan Cadogan,
Yellowson,
Drexciya,
Skaos,
the Normal,
John Cale,
a-ha,
the Slits,
World's Most,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Monks,
Prince Buster,
The Happenings,
Organ,
Patti Smith,
E-Dancer,
Reuben Wilson,
Mission of Burma,
Parry Music,
Fatback Band,
Girls At Our Best!,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Sonics,
Rotary Connection,
Adolescents,
The Dave Clark Five,
Kurtis Blow,
Das Ding,
Byron Stingily,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Alton Ellis,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
FM Einheit,
Janne Schatter,
Pylon,
X-Ray Spex,
The Sound,
Eddi Front,
Graham Central Station,
Easy Going,
Ultravox,
Dual Sessions,
T. Rex,
Lightning Bolt,
The Alarm Clocks,
Shuggie Otis,
Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks.
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.