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 Paraguay and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Manchester.
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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Sly & The Family Stone to the disco 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 Roy Ayers Ubiquity. All the underground hits.
All Aaron Thompson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cybotron 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Severed Heads record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 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 Pretty Things,
Popol Vuh,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Marine Girls,
Sugar Minott,
Kas Product,
Robert Wyatt,
Crispian St. Peters,
Fort Wilson Riot,
the Normal,
Black Sheep,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
F. McDonald,
Tubeway Army,
Sparks,
Echospace,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
D'Angelo,
Oneida,
OOIOO,
Deakin,
The Index,
Neu!,
The Blues Magoos,
Johnny Osbourne,
Deepchord,
Aural Exciters,
X-101,
China Crisis,
Pharoah Sanders,
Avey Tare,
Cecil Taylor,
Stetsasonic,
Aloha Tigers,
Glenn Branca,
Sam Rivers,
Schoolly D,
Soulsonic Force,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Connie Case,
Ken Boothe,
Skarface,
New Order,
Ludus,
Davy DMX,
Warren Ellis,
Young Marble Giants,
T. Rex,
EPMD,
Hashim,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Boz Scaggs,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Lou Reed,
the Human League,
Nation of Ulysses,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
John Cale,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Byron Stingily,
Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan.
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.