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 Romania and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 synthesizer 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 The Detroit Cobras to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Fugazi. All the underground hits.
All Mary Jane Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Tremeloes 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a spring reverb 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 organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Green,
Amazonics,
Hashim,
Drexciya,
Matthew Bourne,
the Bar-Kays,
Ultravox,
Brass Construction,
Todd Terry,
the Slits,
The Red Krayola,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Piero Umiliani,
Sister Nancy,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Fat Boys,
Camberwell Now,
Dorothy Ashby,
Kerrie Biddell,
Scrapy,
Soulsonic Force,
The Gap Band,
Black Sheep,
Hardrive,
Reuben Wilson,
Mandrill,
Quantec,
Soft Machine,
Babytalk,
Fad Gadget,
Joe Finger,
Lucky Dragons,
Ituana,
Metal Thangz,
Franke,
The Count Five,
Mary Jane Girls,
Darondo,
Parry Music,
Dual Sessions,
Aural Exciters,
Glenn Branca,
Pylon,
Gabor Szabo,
Sixth Finger,
Joy Division,
Derrick May,
Infiniti,
Alison Limerick,
The Music Machine,
Newcleus,
Ten City,
Unrelated Segments,
T.S.O.L.,
Easy Going,
The Birthday Party,
DJ Style,
Intrusion,
Suicide,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The American Breed,
The Seeds, The Seeds, The Seeds, The Seeds.
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.