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 New Zealand and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Jeru the Damaja to the punk 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 Birthday Party. All the underground hits.
All Slave tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The New Christs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Vogues,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
La Düsseldorf,
Model 500,
Roxy Music,
Pussy Galore,
The Invisible,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Max Romeo,
Bobby Sherman,
Tom Boy,
The Monochrome Set,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Heaven 17,
Lower 48,
Rekid,
Boz Scaggs,
Darondo,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
the Soft Cell,
Sun City Girls,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Kaleidoscope,
E-Dancer,
Joy Division,
Symarip,
PIL,
Kas Product,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Newcleus,
Surgeon,
Can,
Moby Grape,
Charles Mingus,
Wally Richardson,
Pantaleimon,
Johnny Osbourne,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Thee Headcoats,
Pantytec,
cv313,
John Lydon,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Star Department,
Slave,
Crispy Ambulance,
OOIOO,
Blancmange,
Robert Hood,
Juan Atkins,
New York Dolls,
This Heat,
Hot Snakes,
Circle Jerks,
Nik Kershaw,
Grandmaster Flash,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Kayak,
Flash Fearless,
A Certain Ratio,
Sex Pistols,
Kurtis Blow,
Ice-T, Ice-T, Ice-T, Ice-T.
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.