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 Norway and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the theremin 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 Thee Headcoats to the grunge 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 Kayak. All the underground hits.
All Black Sheep tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nico 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a synthesizer 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?
Black Bananas,
The Martian,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Joe Smooth,
Agitation Free,
The Toasters,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Country Teasers,
Jacques Brel,
Sandy B,
The Slackers,
The Slits,
Bluetip,
Hoover,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Angry Samoans,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Barracudas,
The Invisible,
The Fire Engines,
Lakeside,
The Fall,
Gang of Four,
Essential Logic,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Flamin' Groovies,
Lightning Bolt,
T. Rex,
The Fugs,
Sparks,
Simply Red,
Bill Wells,
Panda Bear,
Eric B and Rakim,
Silicon Teens,
Porter Ricks,
Todd Rundgren,
Kerri Chandler,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Radiohead,
Nils Olav,
Grandmaster Flash,
Procol Harum,
Rites of Spring,
Bang On A Can,
Glambeats Corp.,
CMW,
Joey Negro,
Morten Harket,
the Bar-Kays,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Crash Course in Science,
R.M.O.,
Moebius,
Dual Sessions,
Sex Pistols,
The Searchers,
Tubeway Army,
Section 25,
Alice Coltrane,
Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd.
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.