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 United States and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Alison Limerick to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Moleskins. All the underground hits.
All Bad Manners tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T. Rex 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a guitar 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 snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slave,
Connie Case,
James White and The Blacks,
Spandau Ballet,
Zero Boys,
X-101,
Sixth Finger,
Stiv Bators,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Audionom,
Second Layer,
Fugazi,
The Flesh Eaters,
Laurel Aitken,
T.S.O.L.,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Kerri Chandler,
Max Romeo,
Hot Snakes,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Sister Nancy,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Bauhaus,
The Remains,
Babytalk,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Gang Green,
Tommy Roe,
Delta 5,
Con Funk Shun,
Derrick Morgan,
The Stooges,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
the Bar-Kays,
Robert Görl,
Nico,
Parry Music,
Flamin' Groovies,
X-102,
Black Pus,
Bobby Byrd,
Nik Kershaw,
Barrington Levy,
Silicon Teens,
Henry Cow,
John Coltrane,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Mary Jane Girls,
Television,
Hoover,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Black Sheep,
Skriet,
The Durutti Column,
Mars,
Average White Band,
Amazonics,
The Modern Lovers,
LL Cool J,
Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza.
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.