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 South Sudan and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Kango’s Stein Massive to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Association. All the underground hits.
All Lungfish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soulsonic Force record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 sitar 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 organ and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tears for Fears,
E-Dancer,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Electric Prunes,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Kevin Saunderson,
the Slits,
The Seeds,
Gil Scott Heron,
Sexual Harrassment,
Pere Ubu,
The Motions,
Mars,
Nation of Ulysses,
Organ,
The Divine Comedy,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Godley & Creme,
The Count Five,
Black Moon,
Ralphi Rosario,
Dead Boys,
H. Thieme,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The New Christs,
Angry Samoans,
Yaz,
Rekid,
The Smiths,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Bobby Womack,
Ultravox,
Byron Stingily,
Marcia Griffiths,
Alphaville,
Desert Stars,
Essential Logic,
Skarface,
the Germs,
Carl Craig,
Crispy Ambulance,
FM Einheit,
Khruangbin,
Jacques Brel,
Terry Callier,
Arab on Radar,
Gang Green,
Barbara Tucker,
The Barracudas,
The Searchers,
Procol Harum,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Liliput,
Davy DMX,
Reagan Youth,
Curtis Mayfield,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Faraquet,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Royal Trux, Royal Trux, Royal Trux, Royal Trux.
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.