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 Australia and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the theremin 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 The Blues Magoos to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks. All the underground hits.
All Visage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Pus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Avey Tare record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nik Kershaw,
KRS-One,
David Bowie,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Dorothy Ashby,
Kurtis Blow,
The Flesh Eaters,
Sandy B,
Young Marble Giants,
Kas Product,
Urselle,
Sexual Harrassment,
New Order,
Eric B and Rakim,
Jacob Miller,
Gabor Szabo,
The Detroit Cobras,
China Crisis,
Animal Collective,
Niagra,
Jeff Mills,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Standells,
Wally Richardson,
Stiv Bators,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Flamin' Groovies,
Scion,
Lalo Schifrin,
Underground Resistance,
Sun Ra,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Yusef Lateef,
The Sonics,
Marc Almond,
The Alarm Clocks,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Fugs,
Joey Negro,
Jeff Lynne,
Pantytec,
Quadrant,
Hasil Adkins,
Fear,
Newcleus,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Camouflage,
Henry Cow,
The Buckinghams,
John Holt,
The Divine Comedy,
Bang On A Can,
This Heat,
Index,
Drexciya,
The Gun Club,
Tres Demented,
Kerri Chandler,
Make Up,
Hardrive,
Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget.
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.