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 Turkey and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 New York Dolls to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Lou Reed & Metallica. All the underground hits.
All Von Mondo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Moody Blues record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 an oboe and a güiro 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 an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Durutti Column,
Supertramp,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Iggy Pop,
Dual Sessions,
New Age Steppers,
Roxy Music,
Scan 7,
Los Fastidios,
The Divine Comedy,
L. Decosne,
Simply Red,
Livin' Joy,
Patti Smith,
Organ,
Harry Pussy,
Fela Kuti,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Bobby Womack,
Gabor Szabo,
Heaven 17,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Joe Finger,
The Saints,
Howard Jones,
Public Image Ltd.,
Gichy Dan,
The Monochrome Set,
The Flesh Eaters,
Quantec,
The Trojans,
The Doobie Brothers,
Fluxion,
Rosa Yemen,
Electric Prunes,
Magazine,
Public Enemy,
Whodini,
Gang Gang Dance,
the Germs,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
X-101,
The Sound,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The New Christs,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Smog,
The Real Kids,
Rotary Connection,
Ultravox,
Morten Harket,
The Techniques,
Anthony Braxton,
Eden Ahbez,
Sugar Minott,
Tres Demented,
Gong,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Slave,
Marc Almond,
Skriet,
The Doors, The Doors, The Doors, The Doors.
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.