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 Cameroon and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme to the crunk 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 Kaleidoscope. All the underground hits.
All Lonnie Liston Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Real Kids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 theremin and a sitar 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 guitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Popol Vuh,
In Retrospect,
Index,
The Smiths,
Soft Cell,
Tommy Roe,
Q and Not U,
The Flesh Eaters,
the Bar-Kays,
Bizarre Inc.,
Freddie Wadling,
Bootsy Collins,
Wolf Eyes,
Sparks,
LL Cool J,
Parry Music,
Peter & Gordon,
Negative Approach,
Yusef Lateef,
Peter and Kerry,
The Blues Magoos,
Joy Division,
U.S. Maple,
Pussy Galore,
a-ha,
DNA,
Curtis Mayfield,
Con Funk Shun,
Mad Mike,
The Mojo Men,
The Birthday Party,
Henry Cow,
The Moleskins,
The Gories,
Youth Brigade,
Unwound,
Saccharine Trust,
Sun City Girls,
The Mummies,
Harpers Bizarre,
Delta 5,
The Wake,
Yazoo,
Matthew Halsall,
Bobby Byrd,
Black Bananas,
Barrington Levy,
Liliput,
Y Pants,
The Young Rascals,
Pulsallama,
Hashim,
Model 500,
Hot Snakes,
Main Source,
Ludus,
Niagra,
B.T. Express,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
H. Thieme,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Sex Pistols,
Bauhaus, Bauhaus, Bauhaus, Bauhaus.
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.