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 Switzerland and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Maleditus Sound to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All Eve St. Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cluster record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 synthesizer and a 808 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 rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Surgeon,
Crime,
Joey Negro,
JFA,
The Fortunes,
The Music Machine,
Girls At Our Best!,
Make Up,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sällskapet,
Yellowson,
Gil Scott Heron,
Franke,
Tres Demented,
Popol Vuh,
The Searchers,
Ohio Players,
Public Enemy,
The Modern Lovers,
Crash Course in Science,
Byron Stingily,
Ken Boothe,
Lungfish,
Gichy Dan,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Ultravox,
Graham Central Station,
Animal Collective,
Desert Stars,
Harmonia,
Wally Richardson,
Donny Hathaway,
Gabor Szabo,
Fifty Foot Hose,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Youth Brigade,
Jacques Brel,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Judy Mowatt,
Ultimate Spinach,
Lalann,
Warsaw,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Accadde A,
the Association,
Ronan,
Funky Four + One,
Masters at Work,
Jandek,
48th St. Collective,
Amon Düül II,
Livin' Joy,
The Fugs,
MC5,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
CMW,
Glambeats Corp.,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Wolf Eyes,
Max Romeo,
Index, Index, Index, Index.
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.