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 Sudan and from Toronto.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Pantytec to the grunge 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 Youth Brigade. All the underground hits.
All Blake Baxter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Flesh Eaters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 synthesizer and an arpeggiator 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 organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Music Machine,
Gastr Del Sol,
Whodini,
The Remains,
Scion,
DJ Sneak,
The Human League,
Arab on Radar,
Black Bananas,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Goldenarms,
Kayak,
Half Japanese,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Marcia Griffiths,
Jeff Mills,
Josef K,
James White and The Blacks,
Nico,
Minor Threat,
Niagra,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Eurythmics,
Visage,
Electric Prunes,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Sugar Minott,
Depeche Mode,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Surgeon,
Sparks,
Sällskapet,
Sight & Sound,
Livin' Joy,
The Dirtbombs,
The Fortunes,
Metal Thangz,
Charles Mingus,
Black Pus,
Fugazi,
Curtis Mayfield,
Skriet,
Pantaleimon,
The Monks,
Iggy Pop,
Harpers Bizarre,
H. Thieme,
Crooked Eye,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Quando Quango,
The Detroit Cobras,
New York Dolls,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Jesper Dahlback,
Robert Wyatt,
Neu!,
Scan 7,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
June Days,
Junior Murvin,
Television Personalities, Television Personalities, Television Personalities, Television Personalities.
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.