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 Ukraine and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Duran Duran to the rap 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 The Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All One Last Wish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Techniques 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a 808 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?
The Modern Lovers,
The Techniques,
LL Cool J,
Newcleus,
The Mummies,
Scrapy,
Mark Hollis,
Depeche Mode,
Tomorrow,
Freddie Wadling,
June Days,
The Offenders,
Slick Rick,
Rapeman,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Alice Coltrane,
Alphaville,
The Fortunes,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Sun City Girls,
Monolake,
Minny Pops,
Goldenarms,
Cluster,
Minnie Riperton,
Deepchord,
Make Up,
Liliput,
Fat Boys,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Five Americans,
Pantaleimon,
Sister Nancy,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Terrestrial Tones,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Television Personalities,
Jesper Dahlback,
Malaria!,
Lightning Bolt,
Traffic Nightmare,
Josef K,
Ohio Players,
Ash Ra Tempel,
the Normal,
Rites of Spring,
Dark Day,
Mad Mike,
Drexciya,
T. Rex,
Rekid,
New York Dolls,
UT,
Y Pants,
Angry Samoans,
Agent Orange,
Ronan,
48th St. Collective,
Circle Jerks,
Underground Resistance,
Cecil Taylor,
the Bar-Kays,
X-102,
Harry Pussy,
the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell.
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.