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 Micronesia and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Faraquet to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Skarface. All the underground hits.
All Juan Atkins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T. Rex record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet 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 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Main Source,
The Beau Brummels,
Lyres,
Liliput,
the Slits,
Magma,
Idris Muhammad,
Clear Light,
John Foxx,
Aloha Tigers,
Henry Cow,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Velvet Underground,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Silicon Teens,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Mary Jane Girls,
Heaven 17,
Marcia Griffiths,
Lower 48,
Bad Manners,
Rosa Yemen,
Cymande,
Faraquet,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Yaz,
Nation of Ulysses,
Todd Terry,
Donny Hathaway,
Jandek,
London Community Gospel Choir,
X-Ray Spex,
Peter & Gordon,
Von Mondo,
Sonny Sharrock,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Nick Fraelich,
The Monks,
Leonard Cohen,
Ludus,
The Misunderstood,
Roxette,
Crooked Eye,
CMW,
Scion,
Inner City,
Fluxion,
Saccharine Trust,
Jeru the Damaja,
Organ,
Crispian St. Peters,
Dorothy Ashby,
Shoche,
Steve Hackett,
Black Sheep,
Ultimate Spinach,
Magazine,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Fire Engines,
Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks.
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.