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 Mali and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the theremin 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 Soul II Soul to the dance 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 Wally Richardson. All the underground hits.
All Sam Rivers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Echospace record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro 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 mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sugar Minott,
Neil Young,
B.T. Express,
The Black Dice,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Standells,
New York Dolls,
Skriet,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Jacob Miller,
Rapeman,
Ice-T,
The Electric Prunes,
Second Layer,
Maurizio,
Zapp,
Monks,
Nils Olav,
The Gun Club,
The Sonics,
Radio Birdman,
Aural Exciters,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Siglo XX,
The Fall,
The Fugs,
Magazine,
David Bowie,
The Blackbyrds,
Colin Newman,
Cameo,
Saccharine Trust,
the Association,
The Cowsills,
Kerrie Biddell,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Traffic Nightmare,
Crispy Ambulance,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Dawn Penn,
Deakin,
Gang Starr,
Quando Quango,
The Pretty Things,
Hardrive,
Byron Stingily,
The Slackers,
Derrick May,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Wasted Youth,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
the Human League,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Bronski Beat,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Durutti Column,
Ultimate Spinach,
K-Klass,
Lindisfarne,
Brand Nubian,
Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim.
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.