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 Mali and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 B.T. Express to the techno 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 Radiopuhelimet. All the underground hits.
All Toni Rubio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Porter Ricks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer 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 snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
The Trojans,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Jerry's Kids,
Radio Birdman,
Max Romeo,
Dennis Brown,
Dorothy Ashby,
Lyres,
Loose Ends,
48th St. Collective,
The Birthday Party,
D'Angelo,
Spoonie Gee,
Negative Approach,
Intrusion,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Toni Rubio,
Leonard Cohen,
Radiopuhelimet,
China Crisis,
Lightning Bolt,
The Leaves,
Cluster,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Brand Nubian,
Outsiders,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Sixth Finger,
Al Stewart,
Matthew Halsall,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Angels of Light,
The Moleskins,
Motorama,
Monolake,
Junior Murvin,
Supertramp,
Audionom,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Aswad,
Lakeside,
Susan Cadogan,
Prince Buster,
Glenn Branca,
The Star Department,
Harry Pussy,
Colin Newman,
The Standells,
La Düsseldorf,
Robert Hood,
David Bowie,
The United States of America,
John Coltrane,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Sonics,
Public Enemy,
Suicide,
Cal Tjader,
Fad Gadget,
Main Source,
The Techniques, The Techniques, The Techniques, The Techniques.
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.