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 Tajikistan and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 spring reverb 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 the Bar-Kays to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Fall. All the underground hits.
All Scion tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Audionom record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 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 mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lyres,
Mad Mike,
Eric B and Rakim,
Bill Near,
Ken Boothe,
Royal Trux,
Toni Rubio,
Q and Not U,
Crash Course in Science,
Slave,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Marshall Jefferson,
June Days,
The Victims,
Aloha Tigers,
Yazoo,
Sun City Girls,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
China Crisis,
The Tremeloes,
Bill Wells,
The Smoke,
The Real Kids,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Alton Ellis,
Smog,
Glenn Branca,
Ice-T,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Birthday Party,
Mars,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Main Source,
Leonard Cohen,
Stetsasonic,
The Monks,
The Gun Club,
Buzzcocks,
F. McDonald,
Bluetip,
Supertramp,
Flash Fearless,
The Fugs,
Cymande,
Funkadelic,
Laurel Aitken,
Inner City,
Gabor Szabo,
Pierre Henry,
Deadbeat,
Amon Düül II,
Accadde A,
Traffic Nightmare,
Hasil Adkins,
Johnny Clarke,
Derrick May,
Johnny Osbourne,
Lungfish,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads.
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.