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 Guinea-Bissau and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 808 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 The Busters to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Iggy Pop tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sugar Minott record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a 808 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 theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobbi Humphrey,
Ultimate Spinach,
Black Moon,
Flipper,
Joey Negro,
Buzzcocks,
Guru Guru,
The Barracudas,
Johnny Osbourne,
Boredoms,
Royal Trux,
The Stooges,
F. McDonald,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Derrick May,
Marshall Jefferson,
Eric Copeland,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Patti Smith,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Max Romeo,
Todd Rundgren,
The Index,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Bobby Sherman,
Ten City,
New Order,
The Music Machine,
Quando Quango,
Chrome,
Roger Hodgson,
Mary Jane Girls,
Henry Cow,
Magazine,
Essential Logic,
Barrington Levy,
T. Rex,
Aswad,
Black Bananas,
Mantronix,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Sister Nancy,
Pere Ubu,
John Holt,
Pussy Galore,
Gang Green,
E-Dancer,
Brothers Johnson,
Stiv Bators,
Rakim,
Tomorrow,
Second Layer,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Nils Olav,
John Foxx,
Delon & Dalcan,
Lou Christie,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lalo Schifrin,
Japan,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
CMW, CMW, CMW, CMW.
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.