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 Ethiopia and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Oneida to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Bang On A Can. All the underground hits.
All The Neon Judgement tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Spandau Ballet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
DJ Style,
Los Fastidios,
The Dirtbombs,
Tears for Fears,
Tom Boy,
Dorothy Ashby,
Roxy Music,
The Techniques,
The Wake,
The Red Krayola,
Lee Hazlewood,
Suburban Knight,
Ituana,
Kool Moe Dee,
K-Klass,
Minutemen,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Invisible,
Marvin Gaye,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Gerry Rafferty,
Junior Murvin,
The Sonics,
Connie Case,
Alphaville,
Bobby Byrd,
Arthur Verocai,
Marc Almond,
Jawbox,
Kevin Saunderson,
Minnie Riperton,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Erasure,
Lungfish,
Guru Guru,
KRS-One,
Amazonics,
Joe Finger,
The Blackbyrds,
Lyres,
Franke,
Mo-Dettes,
Don Cherry,
The Electric Prunes,
Flash Fearless,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Leaves,
The Raincoats,
Terry Callier,
Wire,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Boz Scaggs,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Drexciya,
Sex Pistols,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Zapp,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Thompson Twins,
Buzzcocks,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks.
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.