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 Tonga and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Marcia Griffiths to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The United States of America. All the underground hits.
All Ponytail tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Monks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ituana,
E-Dancer,
Ronnie Foster,
The Mojo Men,
UT,
John Cale,
Lalo Schifrin,
Al Stewart,
The Standells,
Whodini,
Hardrive,
The Zeros,
X-Ray Spex,
B.T. Express,
Robert Wyatt,
kango's stein massive,
Brand Nubian,
The Human League,
Archie Shepp,
Suburban Knight,
Pagans,
Albert Ayler,
David Bowie,
The Grass Roots,
Erasure,
Wire,
Aloha Tigers,
Tom Boy,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Deadbeat,
Skriet,
David McCallum,
Flipper,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Clear Light,
Bill Wells,
Minutemen,
Gang Starr,
OOIOO,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Cybotron,
The American Breed,
Warsaw,
Altered Images,
The Flesh Eaters,
Shoche,
Kerri Chandler,
Colin Newman,
Crispian St. Peters,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Magma,
Lindisfarne,
Jerry's Kids,
Dawn Penn,
Nils Olav,
The Fire Engines,
Terry Callier,
Arthur Verocai,
The Pretty Things,
Public Enemy,
Cameo,
Roger Hodgson,
Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid.
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.