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 Guatemala and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Rosa Yemen to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Blossom Toes. All the underground hits.
All The Martian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every June of 44 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a harpsichord 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 an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arthur Verocai,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Boogie Down Productions,
These Immortal Souls,
Andrew Hill,
Barrington Levy,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Stereo Dub,
Black Sheep,
Fat Boys,
Ken Boothe,
Deepchord,
Nirvana,
The Red Krayola,
Radiohead,
Half Japanese,
The Birthday Party,
The Flesh Eaters,
Echospace,
The Blackbyrds,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Inner City,
Franke,
Colin Newman,
Arab on Radar,
Kool Moe Dee,
Talk Talk,
Pantytec,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
June of 44,
The Mighty Diamonds,
B.T. Express,
Brick,
Carl Craig,
Grey Daturas,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Cluster,
Grandmaster Flash,
Matthew Bourne,
Bobby Sherman,
The Human League,
Sun City Girls,
Skaos,
Stetsasonic,
kango's stein massive,
Marcia Griffiths,
Ronnie Foster,
Amon Düül II,
The Electric Prunes,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Kinks,
The Associates,
Pussy Galore,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Model 500,
Deadbeat,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Lee Hazlewood,
Michelle Simonal,
Ponytail,
Groovy Waters,
Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone.
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.