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 South Africa and from Bologna.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Litter to the rap 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 Absolute Body Control. All the underground hits.
All Henry Cow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Donny Hathaway record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a mellotron 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 mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Archie Shepp,
Peter and Kerry,
Alice Coltrane,
The Toasters,
The American Breed,
Sparks,
Pantytec,
Circle Jerks,
Thee Headcoats,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Blues Magoos,
Bobby Womack,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The United States of America,
the Sonics,
Los Fastidios,
Easy Going,
Matthew Bourne,
The Dead C,
Leonard Cohen,
Faraquet,
Bobby Byrd,
Section 25,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Alton Ellis,
Quando Quango,
Clear Light,
Basic Channel,
Dual Sessions,
The Doors,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Minnie Riperton,
Bad Manners,
F. McDonald,
Absolute Body Control,
Country Teasers,
The Standells,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Star Department,
Rhythm & Sound,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Black Dice,
Throbbing Gristle,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Avey Tare,
Index,
The Barracudas,
The Buckinghams,
Nils Olav,
Sixth Finger,
The Five Americans,
Thompson Twins,
KRS-One,
Scott Walker,
The Victims,
Subhumans,
The Vogues,
Arab on Radar,
Alphaville,
Tom Boy,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
This Heat,
Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra.
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.