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 Ecuador and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the oboe 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 The Cowsills to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Alarm Clocks. All the underground hits.
All The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flamin' Groovies 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe 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 theremin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dual Sessions,
One Last Wish,
The Searchers,
Pagans,
Alphaville,
Erykah Badu,
Cecil Taylor,
Brothers Johnson,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Roxy Music,
Harpers Bizarre,
John Foxx,
Ronnie Foster,
Au Pairs,
The Leaves,
Underground Resistance,
John Lydon,
Slick Rick,
The Dead C,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Soul II Soul,
Soft Cell,
Barbara Tucker,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Procol Harum,
Main Source,
Television Personalities,
Depeche Mode,
DJ Sneak,
Gerry Rafferty,
Soulsonic Force,
Johnny Osbourne,
Scientists,
Spoonie Gee,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Infiniti,
Kool Moe Dee,
Second Layer,
Roy Ayers,
Liliput,
Connie Case,
Quando Quango,
June of 44,
Danielle Patucci,
Eric Copeland,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Fuzztones,
Motorama,
Funkadelic,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Victims,
the Human League,
The Invisible,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Cure,
Youth Brigade,
Half Japanese,
Loose Ends,
Minutemen,
The Seeds,
Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls.
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.