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 Belize and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Wire show in Watford.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Sound Behaviour to the funk 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 John Foxx. All the underground hits.
All Marvin Gaye tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flipper 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin 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?
Bobby Hutcherson,
Desert Stars,
New Age Steppers,
Pylon,
Kaleidoscope,
The Red Krayola,
Q65,
Franke,
The Zeros,
Ornette Coleman,
Lalann,
Marmalade,
Procol Harum,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Yaz,
Skaos,
Mantronix,
Marc Almond,
Dual Sessions,
Pantytec,
Barry Ungar,
The Monks,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Angry Samoans,
Moby Grape,
Barclay James Harvest,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Durutti Column,
Iggy Pop,
Radio Birdman,
Sugar Minott,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Lebanon Hanover,
Sun City Girls,
The Tremeloes,
Jesper Dahlback,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Fall,
Swans,
Severed Heads,
Gong,
Delta 5,
Lucky Dragons,
Ronnie Foster,
The Misunderstood,
The Fugs,
Soulsonic Force,
The Mummies,
DJ Style,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Toni Rubio,
Fugazi,
Rites of Spring,
The Trojans,
The Sisters of Mercy,
DNA,
Joy Division,
Bobby Byrd,
The Evens,
Stereo Dub,
Freddie Wadling,
Joensuu 1685,
The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues.
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.