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 Mozambique and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Loose Ends to the rock 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 Jerry's Kids. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rakim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a theremin 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 mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dead Boys,
Bootsy Collins,
Grandmaster Flash,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Sexual Harrassment,
Agent Orange,
cv313,
MC5,
Khruangbin,
Sun City Girls,
Second Layer,
Magma,
E-Dancer,
Dawn Penn,
Eric B and Rakim,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Fugazi,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Lower 48,
Eli Mardock,
Desert Stars,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Flamin' Groovies,
Todd Rundgren,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Cameo,
John Foxx,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Audionom,
Yazoo,
The Kinks,
Intrusion,
Slave,
Talk Talk,
Ludus,
Arab on Radar,
Darondo,
Michelle Simonal,
The Busters,
June Days,
Rakim,
Lungfish,
Grauzone,
Ice-T,
Freddie Wadling,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Underground Resistance,
Dorothy Ashby,
Skriet,
New Order,
Pierre Henry,
kango's stein massive,
Technova,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Susan Cadogan,
The Monks,
The Saints,
10cc,
Roger Hodgson,
Public Image Ltd.,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Gun Club,
Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma.
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.