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 Luxembourg and from Madrid.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 Lou Reed 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 Flamin' Groovies to the dance 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 Angry Samoans. All the underground hits.
All Eddi Front tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cowsills record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stockholm Monsters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gastr Del Sol,
A Certain Ratio,
Interpol,
Sam Rivers,
Flipper,
Eric Copeland,
Laurel Aitken,
The Fortunes,
Deadbeat,
The Human League,
This Heat,
The New Christs,
Monks,
Sun Ra,
48th St. Collective,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Ornette Coleman,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Girls At Our Best!,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
X-102,
Fugazi,
Underground Resistance,
Babytalk,
Deepchord,
Buzzcocks,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Audionom,
Camberwell Now,
Shuggie Otis,
The Fugs,
Letta Mbulu,
The Star Department,
Livin' Joy,
Gong,
Bill Wells,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Tears for Fears,
The Selecter,
Jerry's Kids,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Circle Jerks,
Half Japanese,
Faust,
Bootsy Collins,
Vainqueur,
The Saints,
Rod Modell,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Aswad,
Bush Tetras,
Jawbox,
The Martian,
Sugar Minott,
T.S.O.L.,
DJ Sneak,
Frankie Knuckles,
Spoonie Gee,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Judy Mowatt,
Freddie Wadling,
Eddi Front, Eddi Front, Eddi Front, Eddi Front.
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.