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 Paraguay and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Robert Wyatt to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Unrelated Segments. All the underground hits.
All Ultra Naté tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sight & Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a 808 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 rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Busters,
Eddi Front,
Jacques Brel,
Stetsasonic,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Minnie Riperton,
Bobby Womack,
Thompson Twins,
Al Stewart,
Fluxion,
Bluetip,
Traffic Nightmare,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Howard Jones,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Barracudas,
June of 44,
Janne Schatter,
The Buckinghams,
Black Bananas,
Lakeside,
The Electric Prunes,
Minutemen,
Visage,
The Doobie Brothers,
Ten City,
Kerrie Biddell,
Mission of Burma,
Cameo,
Ultra Naté,
Robert Hood,
Rapeman,
Drive Like Jehu,
Davy DMX,
Laurel Aitken,
Cal Tjader,
B.T. Express,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Crooked Eye,
a-ha,
Blancmange,
Bill Wells,
Reuben Wilson,
the Soft Cell,
Jeff Lynne,
Buzzcocks,
X-Ray Spex,
Au Pairs,
Mad Mike,
Japan,
The Blackbyrds,
The Five Americans,
Jeff Mills,
Smog,
Boz Scaggs,
X-102,
Kas Product,
Sarah Menescal,
Funkadelic,
Royal Trux,
Lower 48,
DJ Style,
Cluster,
Barclay James Harvest, Barclay James Harvest, Barclay James Harvest, Barclay James Harvest.
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.