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 Tanzania and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Gian Franco Pienzio to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Five Americans. All the underground hits.
All The Red Krayola tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mad Mike 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum 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 spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Sneak,
Godley & Creme,
Glenn Branca,
Bush Tetras,
Derrick Morgan,
Rapeman,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Durutti Column,
Country Teasers,
JFA,
Juan Atkins,
Peter and Kerry,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Eric B and Rakim,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Cure,
The Shadows of Knight,
Y Pants,
Radiohead,
Talk Talk,
Roxette,
Lalo Schifrin,
James White and The Blacks,
The Litter,
Royal Trux,
Silicon Teens,
The Angels of Light,
Letta Mbulu,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Average White Band,
Youth Brigade,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Todd Rundgren,
U.S. Maple,
Newcleus,
Fugazi,
Saccharine Trust,
Albert Ayler,
Scrapy,
The Moody Blues,
Johnny Osbourne,
John Holt,
The Mojo Men,
Whodini,
Kerri Chandler,
Bobbi Humphrey,
OOIOO,
Moby Grape,
Gang Gang Dance,
Soul II Soul,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Little Man,
The Trojans,
Sandy B,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Gladiators,
The Techniques,
David Bowie,
Amon Düül,
The Five Americans,
Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin.
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.