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 Mauritania and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Angry Samoans to the crunk 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 Public Enemy. All the underground hits.
All The Cramps tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Franke record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an arpeggiator 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 linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Slits,
Livin' Joy,
Lou Reed,
Babytalk,
Slave,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Second Layer,
Letta Mbulu,
Mad Mike,
Vainqueur,
Tears for Fears,
Shoche,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Neu!,
Skriet,
Scion,
Bobby Byrd,
Dual Sessions,
Albert Ayler,
Slick Rick,
Black Bananas,
Quadrant,
Flamin' Groovies,
Goldenarms,
Rites of Spring,
The Standells,
Deakin,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Skatalites,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Connie Case,
Chris & Cosey,
Bootsy Collins,
Silicon Teens,
Quando Quango,
The Modern Lovers,
Surgeon,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Howard Jones,
Flipper,
Derrick Morgan,
Yaz,
Depeche Mode,
OOIOO,
Audionom,
Unwound,
Skarface,
Pere Ubu,
Sixth Finger,
The Red Krayola,
Main Source,
The Angels of Light,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Tomorrow,
Grey Daturas,
Bill Near,
Sexual Harrassment,
Boogie Down Productions,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Schoolly D,
Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore.
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.