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 Barbados and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Lakeside to the punk 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 The Techniques. All the underground hits.
All Don Cherry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skarface 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb 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 harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monks,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Eric B and Rakim,
Radiohead,
Tim Buckley,
T. Rex,
Oblivians,
Pussy Galore,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
UT,
The Beau Brummels,
kango's stein massive,
Royal Trux,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Blake Baxter,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Radio Birdman,
The Wake,
Kurtis Blow,
Cheater Slicks,
the Swans,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Public Image Ltd.,
R.M.O.,
Toni Rubio,
Lee Hazlewood,
Surgeon,
Television Personalities,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
PIL,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
AZ,
Lindisfarne,
Ice-T,
Bronski Beat,
E-Dancer,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Eurythmics,
X-102,
Yazoo,
H. Thieme,
Harry Pussy,
B.T. Express,
Shuggie Otis,
Underground Resistance,
Todd Rundgren,
Mission of Burma,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Standells,
Japan,
Heaven 17,
Flamin' Groovies,
Pylon,
Ronan,
June Days,
Second Layer,
The Leaves,
Moby Grape,
Radiopuhelimet,
The American Breed,
the Soft Cell,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson.
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.