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 Albania and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Darondo to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Human League. All the underground hits.
All Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sound Behaviour record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 an organ and a rhodes 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 arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Bobby Sherman,
Popol Vuh,
the Germs,
Bill Wells,
Ten City,
The American Breed,
Pantaleimon,
Neil Young,
Crispian St. Peters,
Con Funk Shun,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Lucky Dragons,
Ultra Naté,
Fat Boys,
Ituana,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Kinks,
Alphaville,
Tropical Tobacco,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Marshall Jefferson,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
8 Eyed Spy,
Anthony Braxton,
The Knickerbockers,
Ohio Players,
Eurythmics,
Oneida,
The Leaves,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Fuzztones,
Reagan Youth,
Stockholm Monsters,
Maurizio,
Rhythm & Sound,
Spandau Ballet,
The Invisible,
Eric B and Rakim,
Easy Going,
Patti Smith,
Chris Corsano,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Dual Sessions,
Fad Gadget,
La Düsseldorf,
X-Ray Spex,
Theoretical Girls,
Flipper,
ABC,
Das Ding,
Roxette,
Nation of Ulysses,
Robert Görl,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Graham Central Station,
Arthur Verocai,
the Sonics,
Gil Scott Heron,
Mission of Burma,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Oblivians,
Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U.
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.