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 Tanzania and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 10cc to the grunge 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 Neil Young & Crazy Horse. All the underground hits.
All Infiniti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Matthew Halsall record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fugazi,
The Associates,
The Pretty Things,
Amon Düül II,
The Martian,
Al Stewart,
John Holt,
Clear Light,
Howard Jones,
Young Marble Giants,
Mary Jane Girls,
Aaron Thompson,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Animal Collective,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Minny Pops,
Donny Hathaway,
Faraquet,
Tubeway Army,
Byron Stingily,
Boogie Down Productions,
Tropical Tobacco,
Arthur Verocai,
Soul Sonic Force,
Surgeon,
Brick,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Pop Group,
Y Pants,
Bad Manners,
Eurythmics,
Chris Corsano,
Section 25,
The Dave Clark Five,
Black Moon,
David Bowie,
The Victims,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
8 Eyed Spy,
Bob Dylan,
Pole,
Cybotron,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Technova,
Flamin' Groovies,
kango's stein massive,
Ronnie Foster,
Pylon,
Fela Kuti,
Vladislav Delay,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Gladiators,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Slits,
The Gun Club,
Kayak,
Shuggie Otis,
Robert Hood,
The Divine Comedy,
Royal Trux,
Flipper,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Jeff Mills,
Inner City, Inner City, Inner City, Inner 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.