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 Iceland and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the linndrum 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 FM Einheit to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Doobie Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lafayette Afro Rock Band 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a sitar 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 güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kenny Larkin,
Jacob Miller,
Terry Callier,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Television,
Mad Mike,
Connie Case,
Soulsonic Force,
Donny Hathaway,
Half Japanese,
Pussy Galore,
Absolute Body Control,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Mary Jane Girls,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Cecil Taylor,
Curtis Mayfield,
Lou Reed,
Anthony Braxton,
Lyres,
Soul Sonic Force,
Loose Ends,
Grandmaster Flash,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Iggy Pop,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Monochrome Set,
Shoche,
Mark Hollis,
Aaron Thompson,
X-Ray Spex,
Robert Wyatt,
A Certain Ratio,
Danielle Patucci,
The Flesh Eaters,
Simply Red,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Scott Walker,
Grauzone,
The Selecter,
Mo-Dettes,
the Association,
The Human League,
Warsaw,
Camberwell Now,
Fela Kuti,
Thompson Twins,
Marmalade,
Gang Gang Dance,
Flipper,
The Gun Club,
Little Man,
Derrick May,
Basic Channel,
The Leaves,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Gang of Four,
The Modern Lovers,
Big Daddy Kane,
New Age Steppers,
Faraquet,
The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party.
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.