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 Equatorial Guinea and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Wire show in Watford.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and New York.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Ronan to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Liaisons Dangereuses. All the underground hits.
All Ralphi Rosario tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lee Hazlewood 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a rhodes 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 clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
These Immortal Souls,
Sandy B,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
the Normal,
Moss Icon,
Mars,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Qualms,
Kenny Larkin,
Mad Mike,
Ultra Naté,
Matthew Bourne,
Laurel Aitken,
Soft Machine,
Lou Christie,
Gang Gang Dance,
Isaac Hayes,
The Slits,
Wire,
The Barracudas,
The Knickerbockers,
Technova,
Fugazi,
The Electric Prunes,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Robert Görl,
Rekid,
Quadrant,
Lungfish,
Nation of Ulysses,
the Human League,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Neon Judgement,
Supertramp,
Piero Umiliani,
PIL,
Cymande,
Bobby Byrd,
Barclay James Harvest,
Altered Images,
Alton Ellis,
Quantec,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Searchers,
Sugar Minott,
Joey Negro,
Bill Near,
Delon & Dalcan,
Camouflage,
Danielle Patucci,
The Flesh Eaters,
Dorothy Ashby,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Black Sheep,
Faraquet,
Urselle,
Eurythmics,
Fluxion,
Magma,
Pole,
Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders.
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.