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 India and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the güiro 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 The Chocolate Watch Band to the punk 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 Jesper Dahlback. All the underground hits.
All Joensuu 1685 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camberwell Now record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 sitar and a synthesizer 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 synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Nas,
Magazine,
Babytalk,
Jandek,
Derrick May,
The Music Machine,
Johnny Clarke,
Dawn Penn,
Laurel Aitken,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Rakim,
AZ,
Index,
Mo-Dettes,
Kenny Larkin,
Swans,
Hashim,
Nico,
Ossler,
Throbbing Gristle,
Marine Girls,
The Motions,
Alphaville,
Crime,
Lakeside,
Eddi Front,
the Slits,
Kas Product,
Ituana,
Matthew Bourne,
Blake Baxter,
Radio Birdman,
Brothers Johnson,
the Association,
Jimmy McGriff,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Youth Brigade,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Donald Byrd,
Johnny Osbourne,
Jeru the Damaja,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Rhythm & Sound,
Anthony Braxton,
FM Einheit,
Reagan Youth,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Skarface,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Vainqueur,
Stetsasonic,
Sex Pistols,
Ultravox,
Inner City,
Max Romeo,
The Blues Magoos,
Black Sheep,
The Human League,
Dark Day,
The Martian,
Aaron Thompson,
Ten City, Ten City, Ten City, Ten City.
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.