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 Andorra and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 theremin 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 Silicon Teens to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Gun Club. All the underground hits.
All FM Einheit tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Cell 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator 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 organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Smog,
Severed Heads,
Donald Byrd,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Schoolly D,
Das Ding,
Derrick May,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Monks,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
the Germs,
Pagans,
D'Angelo,
Los Fastidios,
Agent Orange,
Interpol,
Fluxion,
Ten City,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Robert Wyatt,
Soft Machine,
Boredoms,
Sight & Sound,
Arab on Radar,
The Angels of Light,
Freddie Wadling,
Silicon Teens,
Janne Schatter,
Fear,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Funkadelic,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Steve Hackett,
Rufus Thomas,
The Beau Brummels,
The Star Department,
Negative Approach,
T.S.O.L.,
The Gladiators,
Chris Corsano,
Slick Rick,
The Blackbyrds,
Bluetip,
Pylon,
Crooked Eye,
Graham Central Station,
Hot Snakes,
The Slits,
Byron Stingily,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Wake,
This Heat,
Nik Kershaw,
The Doors,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Slave,
Lakeside,
Youth Brigade,
Procol Harum,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Saccharine Trust,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee.
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.