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 Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin 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 Metal Thangz to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Underground Resistance. All the underground hits.
All China Crisis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Max Romeo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ 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 chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mojo Men,
Gang Gang Dance,
Scrapy,
Kenny Larkin,
Mary Jane Girls,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Nick Fraelich,
Sandy B,
Con Funk Shun,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
ABC,
the Slits,
The Gladiators,
Pet Shop Boys,
Duran Duran,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Minnie Riperton,
Bobbi Humphrey,
UT,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Offenders,
Scientists,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Fad Gadget,
Kerri Chandler,
Sight & Sound,
Zero Boys,
Tropical Tobacco,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Names,
Henry Cow,
Stiv Bators,
Malaria!,
Ice-T,
The Monks,
Inner City,
Scan 7,
Boz Scaggs,
Marine Girls,
Second Layer,
Archie Shepp,
Rufus Thomas,
The Standells,
Vainqueur,
The Sound,
Symarip,
Throbbing Gristle,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Stooges,
The Seeds,
Marcia Griffiths,
Terry Callier,
Franke,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
David McCallum,
The Real Kids,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Shoche,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Magazine,
Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller.
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.