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 Mauritania and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
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 Mojo Men to the jazz 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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlbäck tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Henry Cow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a mellotron 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 rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Black Moon,
Loose Ends,
Yazoo,
F. McDonald,
Thompson Twins,
Marine Girls,
Monolake,
Zapp,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Swans,
Fat Boys,
R.M.O.,
Nirvana,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Youth Brigade,
Duran Duran,
Susan Cadogan,
Sound Behaviour,
Jacques Brel,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Wally Richardson,
Mo-Dettes,
Chrome,
Reuben Wilson,
Gastr Del Sol,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Cowsills,
The Wake,
CMW,
Wolf Eyes,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Doors,
Brothers Johnson,
The Moody Blues,
James White and The Blacks,
ABC,
Bronski Beat,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Scrapy,
The Names,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Roy Ayers,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Inner City,
The Move,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Jesper Dahlback,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
These Immortal Souls,
The Cramps,
The United States of America,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Fire Engines,
Ten City,
Cecil Taylor,
Public Image Ltd.,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Whodini,
The Divine Comedy,
Gichy Dan,
Throbbing Gristle,
Barrington Levy,
Fear, Fear, Fear, Fear.
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.