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 Turkmenistan and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Soft Cell to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Flesh Eaters. All the underground hits.
All Iggy Pop tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Sonics record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar 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 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Easy Going,
Crooked Eye,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Bobby Sherman,
Bobby Womack,
Gang Starr,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
LL Cool J,
CMW,
Rapeman,
The Gladiators,
Nils Olav,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Fela Kuti,
Lalann,
Smog,
Joe Smooth,
Hardrive,
Boogie Down Productions,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Girls At Our Best!,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Grauzone,
Peter & Gordon,
Terry Callier,
Gil Scott Heron,
Theoretical Girls,
Tim Buckley,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Golliwogs,
Andrew Hill,
Pantytec,
Kayak,
Pierre Henry,
the Sonics,
Godley & Creme,
Pet Shop Boys,
Boredoms,
Bang On A Can,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Colin Newman,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Desert Stars,
Archie Shepp,
Man Eating Sloth,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Ronnie Foster,
Janne Schatter,
Fat Boys,
Sex Pistols,
Unwound,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
MDC,
Bush Tetras,
T. Rex,
Matthew Halsall,
Scientists,
Alice Coltrane,
Radio Birdman,
Hoover, Hoover, Hoover, Hoover.
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.