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 Mauritius and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Yusef Lateef to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Kerri Chandler. All the underground hits.
All Babytalk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a rhodes 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 sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dave Clark Five,
Television Personalities,
Siglo XX,
Dave Gahan,
Deakin,
Bobby Womack,
X-102,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Black Dice,
a-ha,
Goldenarms,
Rakim,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Marmalade,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Arab on Radar,
Sixth Finger,
The Knickerbockers,
Hashim,
Bauhaus,
Peter & Gordon,
Marine Girls,
Desert Stars,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Niagra,
Arthur Verocai,
Sound Behaviour,
The Fire Engines,
Iggy Pop,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Dawn Penn,
Minnie Riperton,
The Victims,
Nirvana,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Dead C,
Oblivians,
Glenn Branca,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Man Parrish,
Stiv Bators,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Wings,
Agitation Free,
Joey Negro,
Quantec,
The Seeds,
The Dirtbombs,
The Birthday Party,
Maleditus Sound,
cv313,
The Pretty Things,
Piero Umiliani,
Smog,
Absolute Body Control,
Intrusion,
These Immortal Souls,
Eric B and Rakim,
Andrew Hill,
Maurizio,
Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks.
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.