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 Lebanon and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Motions to the dance 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 Red Krayola. All the underground hits.
All Smog tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Reagan Youth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 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 oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Ten City,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Trojans,
Magazine,
the Soft Cell,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Hot Snakes,
Chris & Cosey,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The J.B.'s,
Bad Manners,
The Black Dice,
Pussy Galore,
The Skatalites,
Arab on Radar,
Crispian St. Peters,
Leonard Cohen,
the Fania All-Stars,
Negative Approach,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Monks,
Sex Pistols,
Electric Prunes,
Cal Tjader,
The Standells,
In Retrospect,
the Slits,
the Sonics,
Eric Copeland,
Bauhaus,
Dawn Penn,
Severed Heads,
Desert Stars,
Freddie Wadling,
The Mummies,
Iggy Pop,
Max Romeo,
D'Angelo,
Pole,
Black Bananas,
Pylon,
Rotary Connection,
Soft Machine,
The New Christs,
ABBA,
Stiv Bators,
The Walker Brothers,
The Gories,
Harpers Bizarre,
Robert Wyatt,
Kayak,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Ponytail,
Niagra,
John Cale,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
48th St. Collective,
The Searchers,
Tom Boy,
Aural Exciters,
Kerrie Biddell,
Underground Resistance, Underground Resistance, Underground Resistance, Underground Resistance.
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.