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 Czech Republic and from Winnipeg.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
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 Qualms 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 Cymande. All the underground hits.
All 8 Eyed Spy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Icehouse 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a sitar 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 sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Near,
Johnny Osbourne,
Niagra,
Deadbeat,
Cameo,
Roxy Music,
John Holt,
The Detroit Cobras,
Boz Scaggs,
Nirvana,
Nas,
The Kinks,
Unrelated Segments,
Supertramp,
Camouflage,
The New Christs,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Rapeman,
Wings,
Vainqueur,
the Fania All-Stars,
the Slits,
Schoolly D,
Popol Vuh,
Patti Smith,
Newcleus,
Terrestrial Tones,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Crime,
Smog,
Duran Duran,
Severed Heads,
Maurizio,
Spandau Ballet,
Harpers Bizarre,
Magazine,
Aaron Thompson,
Freddie Wadling,
Second Layer,
World's Most,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Isaac Hayes,
Can,
Ossler,
Dual Sessions,
Chris & Cosey,
Yusef Lateef,
Cecil Taylor,
The Velvet Underground,
K-Klass,
Rosa Yemen,
Delon & Dalcan,
Rites of Spring,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Q and Not U,
Hashim,
Faraquet,
The Leaves,
KRS-One,
Ronan,
Agitation Free,
Peter and Kerry,
Qualms, Qualms, Qualms, Qualms.
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.