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 Zambia and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 Seoul and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 James White and The Blacks to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Thee Headcoats. All the underground hits.
All Deadbeat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Motions 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a spring reverb 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 linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Flag,
Terrestrial Tones,
Unwound,
Traffic Nightmare,
the Soft Cell,
Q65,
The Pop Group,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Saccharine Trust,
Michelle Simonal,
Scratch Acid,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Flesh Eaters,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Jawbox,
Sun City Girls,
Wings,
Skaos,
the Swans,
The J.B.'s,
Alison Limerick,
La Düsseldorf,
Unrelated Segments,
Delta 5,
Deadbeat,
Joe Smooth,
Laurel Aitken,
the Association,
Tubeway Army,
Supertramp,
New York Dolls,
ABBA,
Royal Trux,
Kerri Chandler,
The Martian,
June of 44,
Sam Rivers,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Grass Roots,
Patti Smith,
Deakin,
CMW,
Los Fastidios,
The Fire Engines,
The Star Department,
Mary Jane Girls,
Roy Ayers,
Susan Cadogan,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
D'Angelo,
Blancmange,
Eric B and Rakim,
Amon Düül II,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Joensuu 1685,
Prince Buster,
Ten City,
The Alarm Clocks,
Spandau Ballet,
Agent Orange,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Gap Band,
Bauhaus,
DJ Style, DJ Style, DJ Style, DJ Style.
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.