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 Equatorial Guinea and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Winnipeg.
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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Niagra to the crunk 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 Radio Birdman. All the underground hits.
All The Modern Lovers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every F. McDonald record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 linndrum and a clarinet 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 sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Standells,
Japan,
Aswad,
The Fuzztones,
Donny Hathaway,
The Misunderstood,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Remains,
Pierre Henry,
Piero Umiliani,
K-Klass,
The Count Five,
ABBA,
Brothers Johnson,
The Doobie Brothers,
Lightning Bolt,
The New Christs,
Simply Red,
Bill Near,
Pantaleimon,
Y Pants,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Jimmy McGriff,
the Fania All-Stars,
Harry Pussy,
Frankie Knuckles,
Eden Ahbez,
Tim Buckley,
Minnie Riperton,
Jandek,
Maurizio,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Derrick Morgan,
Chrome,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Soft Machine,
the Sonics,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Invisible,
Bang On A Can,
The Raincoats,
The Blackbyrds,
Trumans Water,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Monks,
The Flesh Eaters,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Slick Rick,
Black Bananas,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Half Japanese,
Lebanon Hanover,
Iggy Pop,
Monks,
Pagans,
Ice-T,
Robert Hood,
Stereo Dub,
Hashim, Hashim, Hashim, Hashim.
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.