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 Maldives and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Modern Lovers to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Beasts of Bourbon. All the underground hits.
All Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scion 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a mellotron 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 oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lucky Dragons,
Bizarre Inc.,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Alarm Clocks,
Quando Quango,
Gong,
Nas,
Pole,
Ultravox,
Hashim,
Main Source,
the Fania All-Stars,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Martian,
Bad Manners,
Drive Like Jehu,
Bill Wells,
UT,
Sight & Sound,
Lungfish,
The Grass Roots,
Little Man,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Saints,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Magma,
the Bar-Kays,
Ken Boothe,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Tears for Fears,
Carl Craig,
Bobby Byrd,
Cluster,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Amazonics,
The Angels of Light,
The Gun Club,
Minnie Riperton,
Donald Byrd,
Derrick Morgan,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
the Normal,
Fat Boys,
New Age Steppers,
Marc Almond,
David McCallum,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Roxy Music,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Gang Green,
Stereo Dub,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Sound,
Joey Negro,
The Monks,
Black Moon,
Nirvana,
Ornette Coleman,
Lalo Schifrin,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Fugs, The Fugs, The Fugs, The Fugs.
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.