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 Slovakia and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 Lille and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare 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 Unrelated Segments to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Ultra Naté. All the underground hits.
All The Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vaughan Mason & Crew 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin 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 harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drive Like Jehu,
The Barracudas,
Cluster,
Peter and Kerry,
The Blackbyrds,
The Misunderstood,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Eurythmics,
Banda Bassotti,
Rod Modell,
Stereo Dub,
The Busters,
Kerri Chandler,
Ohio Players,
John Cale,
New York Dolls,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Roxette,
Duran Duran,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Yazoo,
New Age Steppers,
Black Pus,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Sound,
Interpol,
Fluxion,
Procol Harum,
Black Bananas,
Inner City,
The Remains,
Unrelated Segments,
Barclay James Harvest,
Von Mondo,
Blake Baxter,
Maleditus Sound,
Bizarre Inc.,
8 Eyed Spy,
Massinfluence,
Pantaleimon,
Althea and Donna,
The Victims,
Lalo Schifrin,
Pussy Galore,
David Axelrod,
Soft Machine,
Sixth Finger,
T. Rex,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Rites of Spring,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Isaac Hayes,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Invisible,
The Electric Prunes,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Marvin Gaye,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Star Department,
The Real Kids,
Albert Ayler,
Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe.
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.