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 Venezuela and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Mexico City.
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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba 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 Gichy Dan to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Jesper Dahlback. All the underground hits.
All Derrick Morgan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Machine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a güiro 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 synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Qualms,
Letta Mbulu,
The Mummies,
Saccharine Trust,
FM Einheit,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Dead C,
Davy DMX,
Angry Samoans,
CMW,
Von Mondo,
Warsaw,
The Sound,
Adolescents,
Crash Course in Science,
Aaron Thompson,
Barry Ungar,
Drive Like Jehu,
Mars,
Gil Scott Heron,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
World's Most,
Gabor Szabo,
Derrick Morgan,
Eli Mardock,
Scion,
Loose Ends,
Magma,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Blues Magoos,
Shuggie Otis,
Agitation Free,
Arab on Radar,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Todd Terry,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Eve St. Jones,
Stereo Dub,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Y Pants,
Brand Nubian,
Tom Boy,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Bobby Sherman,
MC5,
Scrapy,
Junior Murvin,
Charles Mingus,
R.M.O.,
Animal Collective,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Johnny Osbourne,
Glambeats Corp.,
Dead Boys,
Isaac Hayes,
Crooked Eye,
This Heat,
Panda Bear,
The Buckinghams,
Skaos,
Rakim, Rakim, Rakim, 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.