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 Chile and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 New Order to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Holt. All the underground hits.
All Fifty Foot Hose tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultra Naté record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 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 organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joensuu 1685,
Drexciya,
The Moody Blues,
The Searchers,
Dead Boys,
X-Ray Spex,
Chris & Cosey,
D'Angelo,
The Slackers,
James White and The Blacks,
H. Thieme,
Skarface,
MC5,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Nils Olav,
The Last Poets,
Malaria!,
Iggy Pop,
Sonny Sharrock,
the Human League,
K-Klass,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Motorama,
Goldenarms,
Babytalk,
Joyce Sims,
Davy DMX,
Kas Product,
48th St. Collective,
Traffic Nightmare,
Newcleus,
Minutemen,
Tears for Fears,
Nik Kershaw,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Real Kids,
June of 44,
The Human League,
Bootsy Collins,
Josef K,
Eve St. Jones,
Lalo Schifrin,
Crooked Eye,
Lungfish,
Deadbeat,
Lyres,
Blancmange,
Con Funk Shun,
Pierre Henry,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Skaos,
Nick Fraelich,
Stereo Dub,
ABBA,
Nico,
Bob Dylan,
The Walker Brothers,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
X-102,
Ultimate Spinach,
Skriet, Skriet, Skriet, Skriet.
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.