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 Tajikistan and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Fat Boys to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Althea and Donna. All the underground hits.
All Red Lorry Yellow Lorry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Charles Mingus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a 808 and a snare 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 arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oneida,
Tres Demented,
The Cowsills,
The Wake,
The Victims,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Crime,
Colin Newman,
Rekid,
The Last Poets,
Cheater Slicks,
Eden Ahbez,
Ludus,
Quando Quango,
Agitation Free,
Heaven 17,
Wolf Eyes,
Idris Muhammad,
The Zeros,
The Detroit Cobras,
Rites of Spring,
Bauhaus,
Desert Stars,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Whodini,
LL Cool J,
Goldenarms,
Tim Buckley,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Seeds,
The Names,
Jerry's Kids,
The Angels of Light,
Kas Product,
Malaria!,
Suburban Knight,
U.S. Maple,
Tubeway Army,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Prince Buster,
Lou Reed,
Marmalade,
Angry Samoans,
Avey Tare,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Ultra Naté,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Move,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Gun Club,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Electric Prunes,
The Golliwogs,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Siglo XX,
Public Image Ltd.,
Amon Düül II,
Pet Shop Boys,
Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads.
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.