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 Argentina and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the clarinet 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 In Retrospect to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Scan 7. All the underground hits.
All Alison Limerick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Spoonie Gee 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar 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 guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mission of Burma,
Tomorrow,
Glambeats Corp.,
Gang Starr,
The Cowsills,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Eve St. Jones,
The Five Americans,
John Foxx,
Heaven 17,
Moss Icon,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Music Machine,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Visage,
Rakim,
Bobby Hutcherson,
the Bar-Kays,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
cv313,
Max Romeo,
Jimmy McGriff,
John Cale,
Juan Atkins,
The Divine Comedy,
Agent Orange,
Black Bananas,
Depeche Mode,
UT,
The Standells,
Jacques Brel,
Scan 7,
Kenny Larkin,
X-Ray Spex,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Janne Schatter,
Thee Headcoats,
Marcia Griffiths,
Todd Terry,
The United States of America,
Isaac Hayes,
Mad Mike,
Crispy Ambulance,
Yaz,
Fela Kuti,
Colin Newman,
Marine Girls,
Freddie Wadling,
The Fuzztones,
Ornette Coleman,
Sarah Menescal,
The Black Dice,
Vainqueur,
Cameo,
Blancmange,
Kerri Chandler,
T. Rex,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Chrome,
Sparks,
Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish.
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.