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 Burkina and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Lyres to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Piero Umiliani. All the underground hits.
All Severed Heads tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arab on Radar record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a clarinet 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 güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Babytalk,
Man Eating Sloth,
Magazine,
Average White Band,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Ultimate Spinach,
Roxy Music,
The Birthday Party,
Bobby Byrd,
The Stooges,
The Saints,
Masters at Work,
Jawbox,
David Axelrod,
Inner City,
The Busters,
Warren Ellis,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Move,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Qualms,
Blake Baxter,
Davy DMX,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Detroit Cobras,
Bush Tetras,
Heaven 17,
Intrusion,
Saccharine Trust,
Archie Shepp,
Harpers Bizarre,
Delta 5,
OOIOO,
Peter and Kerry,
Danielle Patucci,
Sonic Youth,
Man Parrish,
Fad Gadget,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Buzzcocks,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Stetsasonic,
Sugar Minott,
Brick,
The Cure,
The Dirtbombs,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Jerry's Kids,
The Angels of Light,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
New Age Steppers,
Spoonie Gee,
Quantec,
Erasure,
Susan Cadogan,
Depeche Mode,
Simply Red,
The Fall, The Fall, The Fall, The Fall.
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.