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 Burundi and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Remains to the grunge 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 Robert Hood. All the underground hits.
All Quantec tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Shoche 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an oboe 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 linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Excepter,
Symarip,
Quadrant,
Flamin' Groovies,
Fat Boys,
Trumans Water,
Yusef Lateef,
Terry Callier,
Ultravox,
Livin' Joy,
Scratch Acid,
Black Moon,
David Axelrod,
Audionom,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Gun Club,
48th St. Collective,
Lyres,
Lucky Dragons,
Ultimate Spinach,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Marvin Gaye,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The J.B.'s,
the Sonics,
Pantaleimon,
Chrome,
Scott Walker,
The Music Machine,
Glambeats Corp.,
Guru Guru,
Mission of Burma,
Delta 5,
Bill Near,
Sandy B,
FM Einheit,
Sexual Harrassment,
Sunsets and Hearts,
the Association,
Brand Nubian,
R.M.O.,
Main Source,
Smog,
Franke,
Sparks,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Doors,
Public Enemy,
Swans,
the Germs,
Grey Daturas,
John Foxx,
DNA,
Jerry's Kids,
The Beau Brummels,
Rapeman,
Gang Green,
LL Cool J,
Anakelly,
Marc Almond,
ABC,
Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow.
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.