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 Romania and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Tears for Fears to the techno 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 The Slackers. All the underground hits.
All Schoolly D tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every H. Thieme record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba 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 snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spoonie Gee,
Oneida,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Sisters of Mercy,
the Normal,
8 Eyed Spy,
Tropical Tobacco,
Tim Buckley,
The Offenders,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Youth Brigade,
Maurizio,
Bill Wells,
Electric Prunes,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Evens,
Soft Machine,
Loose Ends,
Lungfish,
John Foxx,
Ossler,
Nik Kershaw,
Bizarre Inc.,
FM Einheit,
The Names,
Dawn Penn,
The Velvet Underground,
The Residents,
Harmonia,
Nirvana,
A Certain Ratio,
Vladislav Delay,
Newcleus,
The Dirtbombs,
Anakelly,
Josef K,
The Electric Prunes,
Wasted Youth,
Leonard Cohen,
Idris Muhammad,
Spandau Ballet,
Sugar Minott,
Jerry's Kids,
Jacques Brel,
Alice Coltrane,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Don Cherry,
Connie Case,
Fluxion,
Porter Ricks,
World's Most,
Monolake,
EPMD,
Boz Scaggs,
Massinfluence,
Black Pus,
Bluetip,
Sam Rivers,
Delon & Dalcan,
Kaleidoscope,
Nick Fraelich,
Blossom Toes,
The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones.
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.