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 Guinea and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Marc Almond to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Laurel Aitken. All the underground hits.
All Parry Music tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 linndrum and a sitar 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 snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
R.M.O.,
The Fugs,
Suburban Knight,
Reagan Youth,
Parry Music,
The Slits,
Joy Division,
The Dead C,
Traffic Nightmare,
Eve St. Jones,
Rekid,
Delon & Dalcan,
Sexual Harrassment,
Tears for Fears,
AZ,
Archie Shepp,
Underground Resistance,
Ten City,
Josef K,
Wire,
The Monks,
Khruangbin,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
X-102,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Mojo Men,
X-Ray Spex,
Iggy Pop,
New York Dolls,
Tres Demented,
Max Romeo,
kango's stein massive,
The Moleskins,
Lalo Schifrin,
the Normal,
Sixth Finger,
Ralphi Rosario,
Moebius,
Colin Newman,
Porter Ricks,
Eli Mardock,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Detroit Cobras,
Hashim,
Technova,
Tomorrow,
Judy Mowatt,
Livin' Joy,
8 Eyed Spy,
Mandrill,
the Association,
Jacques Brel,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Rufus Thomas,
EPMD,
The Shadows of Knight,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Sarah Menescal,
The Pretty Things,
Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson.
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.