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 Cambodia and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Justin Hinds & The Dominoes to the crunk 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 Masters at Work. All the underground hits.
All the Germs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kings Of Tomorrow 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 808 and a marimba 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 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sound Behaviour,
Soft Machine,
Boz Scaggs,
Max Romeo,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
John Lydon,
The United States of America,
Roxette,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Beau Brummels,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Golliwogs,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Public Enemy,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Toasters,
B.T. Express,
Harry Pussy,
Flash Fearless,
Shuggie Otis,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Letta Mbulu,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Sister Nancy,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Lungfish,
Q65,
Scan 7,
Skriet,
Lindisfarne,
Zero Boys,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Bronski Beat,
Supertramp,
These Immortal Souls,
Jawbox,
The Dirtbombs,
F. McDonald,
Technova,
Donny Hathaway,
Symarip,
Crime,
La Düsseldorf,
The Fortunes,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Index,
The Mummies,
The Remains,
Tubeway Army,
Radiopuhelimet,
Lyres,
The Black Dice,
Mr. Review,
Rufus Thomas,
Deadbeat,
Audionom,
Wings,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Al Stewart,
Kayak,
Robert Wyatt,
Lou Reed & John Cale, Lou Reed & John Cale, Lou Reed & John Cale, Lou Reed & John Cale.
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.