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 Austria and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 New York Dolls to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Sun Ra Arkestra. All the underground hits.
All Patti Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thee Headcoats 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a theremin 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 sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Swans,
Glambeats Corp.,
Malaria!,
Cymande,
Deadbeat,
Cluster,
Arab on Radar,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
David Bowie,
Pagans,
The Index,
Rekid,
Lou Reed,
Unrelated Segments,
Underground Resistance,
Pharoah Sanders,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Alice Coltrane,
Angry Samoans,
Agent Orange,
The Stooges,
Pulsallama,
Monolake,
Simply Red,
The Busters,
Interpol,
Trumans Water,
the Bar-Kays,
Black Moon,
Scan 7,
The Invisible,
Terry Callier,
Lungfish,
Second Layer,
The Cowsills,
The Smoke,
Davy DMX,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Cal Tjader,
FM Einheit,
Q and Not U,
Ituana,
Half Japanese,
Surgeon,
Liliput,
The Slackers,
Clear Light,
Barbara Tucker,
Chrome,
The Modern Lovers,
Talk Talk,
Gabor Szabo,
Japan,
Eric B and Rakim,
Fela Kuti,
Michelle Simonal,
Eric Copeland,
Jerry's Kids,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Grey Daturas,
Hashim, Hashim, Hashim, Hashim.
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.