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 Armenia and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Faraquet to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Zeros. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & Metallica tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suicide record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an oboe 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 marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scientists,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Pussy Galore,
Outsiders,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Knickerbockers,
Suburban Knight,
Faraquet,
Mantronix,
Eurythmics,
The Monochrome Set,
Bluetip,
Country Teasers,
Quantec,
KRS-One,
Camouflage,
Gang Gang Dance,
Maleditus Sound,
Alison Limerick,
The Motions,
X-101,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Modern Lovers,
The Index,
The Smoke,
Ornette Coleman,
Radiohead,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Fear,
The Gun Club,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Popol Vuh,
Gang of Four,
The Moody Blues,
Sonic Youth,
Y Pants,
Harry Pussy,
cv313,
The Trojans,
Tommy Roe,
Deepchord,
Crash Course in Science,
Loose Ends,
Ultra Naté,
a-ha,
The Divine Comedy,
Suicide,
Dead Boys,
Peter and Kerry,
Ronnie Foster,
The Happenings,
Radiopuhelimet,
Joe Finger,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Blackbyrds,
Talk Talk,
Brass Construction,
Blancmange,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Soulsonic Force,
Basic Channel,
Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman.
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.