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 Botswana and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 The Shadows of Knight to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Bang on a Can All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Q and Not U 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a clarinet 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 harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rapeman,
Ice-T,
The Neon Judgement,
The Remains,
The Saints,
Icehouse,
Surgeon,
Stetsasonic,
DJ Sneak,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Cymande,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Cybotron,
Kurtis Blow,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Robert Hood,
James White and The Blacks,
Curtis Mayfield,
Maleditus Sound,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
John Foxx,
The Moody Blues,
Ronan,
Rod Modell,
Masters at Work,
Peter and Kerry,
Ponytail,
Underground Resistance,
Minutemen,
Sister Nancy,
Intrusion,
The Vogues,
June of 44,
Glambeats Corp.,
Country Joe & The Fish,
JFA,
World's Most,
Pharoah Sanders,
Moby Grape,
Ornette Coleman,
Bill Wells,
The Names,
Archie Shepp,
Rites of Spring,
Ken Boothe,
Jeff Mills,
X-101,
Lakeside,
Pylon,
Little Man,
The United States of America,
Marcia Griffiths,
Lalann,
Pet Shop Boys,
Malaria!,
Boredoms,
Newcleus,
Yaz,
Pole,
Altered Images,
Cecil Taylor,
Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats.
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.