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 Tuvalu and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar 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 Rhythm & Sound to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Grey Daturas. All the underground hits.
All Bush Tetras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Symarip 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a guitar 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 marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The J.B.'s,
Barry Ungar,
the Soft Cell,
MDC,
Nico,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
ABC,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Joyce Sims,
Curtis Mayfield,
Faust,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Sun Ra,
The Happenings,
Index,
the Fania All-Stars,
Gang Gang Dance,
KRS-One,
Nick Fraelich,
The Mojo Men,
the Association,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Moody Blues,
Technova,
The Velvet Underground,
Mark Hollis,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Underground Resistance,
Tomorrow,
The Victims,
Kool Moe Dee,
Sparks,
Eurythmics,
Clear Light,
Slave,
The Cowsills,
Groovy Waters,
The Skatalites,
World's Most,
B.T. Express,
Boredoms,
Surgeon,
Davy DMX,
Unwound,
The Flesh Eaters,
Kerri Chandler,
Skriet,
Echospace,
Kerrie Biddell,
Sister Nancy,
The Names,
Nik Kershaw,
Das Ding,
Scrapy,
Ken Boothe,
Grey Daturas,
the Normal,
Skaos,
Glenn Branca,
Ice-T,
Robert Görl,
Motorama,
The Pretty Things,
James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks.
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.