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 Equatorial Guinea and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Winnipeg.
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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Donny Hathaway to the grunge 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 Soft Machine. All the underground hits.
All Soul Sonic Force tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Swans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar 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 chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sound,
Pagans,
Moby Grape,
Los Fastidios,
Mandrill,
Dark Day,
Oneida,
Fad Gadget,
Zapp,
Graham Central Station,
Underground Resistance,
Motorama,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Bobby Byrd,
The Dirtbombs,
Thee Headcoats,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Bob Dylan,
Fugazi,
The Knickerbockers,
Model 500,
Man Eating Sloth,
Anthony Braxton,
Ultra Naté,
Gichy Dan,
The Victims,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The J.B.'s,
Deepchord,
Johnny Clarke,
Pantytec,
The Index,
Hot Snakes,
U.S. Maple,
Slick Rick,
China Crisis,
The Cowsills,
Don Cherry,
Wings,
The Moleskins,
Ice-T,
Audionom,
the Swans,
Ken Boothe,
The Dave Clark Five,
Royal Trux,
Warren Ellis,
The Doors,
Silicon Teens,
Lou Reed,
Alton Ellis,
Cymande,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Negative Approach,
The Seeds,
Gang Starr,
the Bar-Kays,
Duran Duran,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Smoke,
Supertramp,
Michelle Simonal, Michelle Simonal, Michelle Simonal, Michelle Simonal.
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.