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 Guatemala and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Accra.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 The Busters to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 LL Cool J. All the underground hits.
All Visage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mo-Dettes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 synthesizer 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 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
DNA,
Robert Wyatt,
EPMD,
The Detroit Cobras,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Fear,
Josef K,
Von Mondo,
The Names,
Audionom,
One Last Wish,
Barry Ungar,
June Days,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Kenny Larkin,
Q and Not U,
Brothers Johnson,
Maleditus Sound,
Smog,
Bad Manners,
Gerry Rafferty,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Gap Band,
Terrestrial Tones,
Aaron Thompson,
Depeche Mode,
Warsaw,
Alice Coltrane,
Grandmaster Flash,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Joy Division,
Don Cherry,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Gong,
Desert Stars,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Wings,
Procol Harum,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Sexual Harrassment,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Das Ding,
The Offenders,
Accadde A,
Delta 5,
Mr. Review,
Arab on Radar,
Rufus Thomas,
Kas Product,
Soft Cell,
Agent Orange,
Brass Construction,
Marvin Gaye,
Japan,
Swell Maps,
Brick,
Sunsets and Hearts,
PIL,
Bill Wells,
The Mojo Men,
B.T. Express,
Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier.
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.