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 Samoa and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Beasts of Bourbon to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Agent Orange. All the underground hits.
All Young Marble Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alphaville record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer 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 harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Surgeon,
Juan Atkins,
DNA,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
X-Ray Spex,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Alton Ellis,
Bronski Beat,
Harpers Bizarre,
Quantec,
The Gun Club,
H. Thieme,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Simply Red,
Interpol,
T.S.O.L.,
John Coltrane,
Donny Hathaway,
The Monochrome Set,
The Five Americans,
Little Man,
Parry Music,
Gichy Dan,
UT,
The Beau Brummels,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Fuzztones,
Vladislav Delay,
The Flesh Eaters,
Neil Young,
Rapeman,
New York Dolls,
Freddie Wadling,
Public Image Ltd.,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Spoonie Gee,
Make Up,
Boz Scaggs,
Anakelly,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Rod Modell,
Stereo Dub,
Man Eating Sloth,
Bobby Womack,
Jimmy McGriff,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Wally Richardson,
Alison Limerick,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Camberwell Now,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Michelle Simonal,
Joe Finger,
Vainqueur,
Black Flag,
The Names,
Cluster,
The Modern Lovers,
Roxette, Roxette, Roxette, Roxette.
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.