Infinitely Losing My Edge

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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 Haiti and from Tokyo.
But I was there.

I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.

To all the kids in Milan and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Cluster to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band. All the underground hits.

All Zapp tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Matthew Bourne record on German import.

I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 guitar and a mellotron 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 arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.

I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.

But have you seen my records?

The Litter, Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines, Unwound, Man Parrish, Tomorrow, Oneida, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, The Searchers, Fatback Band, Eyeless In Gaza, The Fire Engines, Livin' Joy, The Royal Family And The Poor, Von Mondo, Ash Ra Tempel, The Modern Lovers, Easy Going, Susan Cadogan, Radiopuhelimet, Sister Nancy, Pantytec, Delta 5, Popol Vuh, Robert Wyatt, Blake Baxter, Marine Girls, Connie Case, Sällskapet, Grandmaster Flash, Rod Modell, Iggy Pop, Albert Ayler, Eddi Front, Nirvana, Essential Logic, Eli Mardock, Fat Boys, Nas, Alphaville, Model 500, Nils Olav, Television, Wasted Youth, Sonic Youth, Cybotron, Zapp, X-101, Sam Rivers, Sad Lovers and Giants, Mr. Review, Neil Young, The Offenders, Kings Of Tomorrow, Bobby Sherman, Prince Buster, Dawn Penn, Amazonics, The Cure, Kango’s Stein Massive, Kango’s Stein Massive, Kango’s Stein Massive, Kango’s Stein Massive.

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.

A hack by Matthew Ogle who is very sorry to James Murphy and basically everyone (cheers to Darius and this for the late-night inspiration)