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 Canada and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Spandau Ballet to the grunge 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 Radio Birdman. All the underground hits.
All Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Alarm Clocks 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator 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 an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Organ,
Pere Ubu,
David McCallum,
Chrome,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Sonics,
Andrew Hill,
Cal Tjader,
Bootsy Collins,
Little Man,
Malaria!,
Ice-T,
John Holt,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Black Pus,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Brass Construction,
Sixth Finger,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Audionom,
The Grass Roots,
Joey Negro,
Dark Day,
Terrestrial Tones,
Kurtis Blow,
John Cale,
Peter & Gordon,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Arab on Radar,
Cluster,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Lee Hazlewood,
MC5,
Harpers Bizarre,
Crooked Eye,
Gregory Isaacs,
Swell Maps,
Angry Samoans,
Crime,
Charles Mingus,
Minny Pops,
Freddie Wadling,
Warren Ellis,
Agitation Free,
Moebius,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Residents,
Faraquet,
Susan Cadogan,
Sun Ra,
Lightning Bolt,
Icehouse,
Shuggie Otis,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Delon & Dalcan,
the Slits,
Maleditus Sound,
Barbara Tucker,
Mission of Burma,
Monks,
Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat.
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.