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 Argentina and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Steve Hackett to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Blackbyrds. All the underground hits.
All The Evens tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gary Puckett & The Union Gap record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an organ 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 güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cramps,
Moebius,
Jeru the Damaja,
Kurtis Blow,
Babytalk,
Traffic Nightmare,
David Bowie,
Marvin Gaye,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Jandek,
the Soft Cell,
Colin Newman,
Judy Mowatt,
Mr. Review,
The Cowsills,
Gabor Szabo,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
A Certain Ratio,
This Heat,
Adolescents,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Symarip,
DNA,
Soul II Soul,
Rotary Connection,
Sun City Girls,
K-Klass,
Wally Richardson,
Jacob Miller,
Alton Ellis,
Goldenarms,
The Angels of Light,
Saccharine Trust,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
R.M.O.,
L. Decosne,
OOIOO,
Jawbox,
Blancmange,
Hashim,
Lee Hazlewood,
Faust,
Newcleus,
Rapeman,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Eric Copeland,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Aloha Tigers,
Flamin' Groovies,
Nation of Ulysses,
Half Japanese,
Severed Heads,
Ossler,
Chris Corsano,
Radiopuhelimet,
Heaven 17,
Absolute Body Control,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
X-102,
the Human League,
Guru Guru,
Morten Harket,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish, Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish, Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish, Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish.
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.