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 Japan and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Siglo XX to the funk 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 Peanut Butter Conspiracy. All the underground hits.
All Ultra Naté tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eddi Front record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a guitar 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 organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Doors,
Procol Harum,
Connie Case,
Y Pants,
the Soft Cell,
Crispy Ambulance,
Von Mondo,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Standells,
Blake Baxter,
Swell Maps,
Wally Richardson,
Frankie Knuckles,
Marvin Gaye,
Eurythmics,
Junior Murvin,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Lungfish,
Lyres,
The Neon Judgement,
AZ,
Goldenarms,
Agent Orange,
PIL,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Fat Boys,
Anakelly,
Scan 7,
The Remains,
the Human League,
Moss Icon,
MDC,
Eric Copeland,
The Invisible,
Nick Fraelich,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Q65,
The Gun Club,
Iggy Pop,
Jacques Brel,
Suicide,
The Evens,
Reagan Youth,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Rapeman,
Livin' Joy,
Prince Buster,
A Certain Ratio,
Black Sheep,
Nik Kershaw,
The Cowsills,
Funky Four + One,
John Coltrane,
The Divine Comedy,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Amon Düül,
Gregory Isaacs,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Stooges,
ABC,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys.
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.