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 Zimbabwe and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the marimba 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 Henry Cow to the rock 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 Khruangbin. All the underground hits.
All Camouflage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Martian record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 synthesizer and a 808 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 güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eddi Front,
Man Parrish,
the Bar-Kays,
The Star Department,
Sonny Sharrock,
Funkadelic,
The Gladiators,
Porter Ricks,
Monks,
Anakelly,
Roy Ayers,
Fatback Band,
Crispian St. Peters,
Popol Vuh,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Deadbeat,
This Heat,
John Holt,
Funky Four + One,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Young Rascals,
Gong,
Soul Sonic Force,
Crispy Ambulance,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Delon & Dalcan,
Jeff Lynne,
The Martian,
H. Thieme,
Bootsy Collins,
Chrome,
Soft Cell,
The New Christs,
Das Ding,
Robert Görl,
Roxy Music,
Deepchord,
Zapp,
Joey Negro,
The Walker Brothers,
Rotary Connection,
Mo-Dettes,
Donald Byrd,
Scrapy,
The Sound,
The Pretty Things,
Thompson Twins,
Warren Ellis,
Sister Nancy,
Susan Cadogan,
Gang Starr,
Gang Gang Dance,
Aloha Tigers,
Negative Approach,
Inner City,
Silicon Teens,
The Red Krayola,
Au Pairs,
Alton Ellis,
Ralphi Rosario,
Glenn Branca,
The Barracudas,
Rosa Yemen,
Jesper Dahlback,
Sparks, Sparks, Sparks, Sparks.
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.