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 Algeria and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Hong Kong.
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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Marshall Jefferson to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Sly & The Family Stone. All the underground hits.
All The Gladiators tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eddi Front 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a rhodes 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 harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fatback Band,
Kayak,
Black Bananas,
Radio Birdman,
The Techniques,
The Moody Blues,
Eurythmics,
Fela Kuti,
Pulsallama,
Tim Buckley,
Technova,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Fuzztones,
Porter Ricks,
Loose Ends,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Flipper,
John Coltrane,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Busters,
Mandrill,
Kevin Saunderson,
Talk Talk,
Brass Construction,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Lungfish,
The Grass Roots,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Y Pants,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Mojo Men,
Parry Music,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
the Human League,
The Flesh Eaters,
Glambeats Corp.,
MDC,
The Last Poets,
Schoolly D,
Deakin,
Intrusion,
Fugazi,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Sun City Girls,
Massinfluence,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Spandau Ballet,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Todd Rundgren,
Easy Going,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Gang of Four,
Drive Like Jehu,
Bill Near,
Pantytec,
Oneida,
Desert Stars,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Country Teasers,
The Beau Brummels,
In Retrospect, In Retrospect, In Retrospect, In Retrospect.
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.