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 Costa Rica and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Delhi.
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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the 808 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 Scott Walker + Sunn O))) to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Fad Gadget. All the underground hits.
All H. Thieme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Spoonie Gee 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a chamberlin 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 chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cure,
Skaos,
Circle Jerks,
Camouflage,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Smiths,
Bill Near,
The Black Dice,
Matthew Bourne,
Half Japanese,
Tropical Tobacco,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Count Five,
Aloha Tigers,
Severed Heads,
Mars,
The Walker Brothers,
The Saints,
Soul Sonic Force,
Barclay James Harvest,
Roxy Music,
Bizarre Inc.,
The United States of America,
Johnny Osbourne,
Black Pus,
Bush Tetras,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Connie Case,
Dave Gahan,
Stereo Dub,
48th St. Collective,
Desert Stars,
The Buckinghams,
The Gap Band,
In Retrospect,
Ultimate Spinach,
Wings,
Saccharine Trust,
Procol Harum,
Shuggie Otis,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Standells,
Underground Resistance,
Kerrie Biddell,
Derrick May,
L. Decosne,
Lyres,
Reagan Youth,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Janne Schatter,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Funky Four + One,
Metal Thangz,
Lebanon Hanover,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Boz Scaggs,
Boogie Down Productions,
Excepter,
The Golliwogs,
Deepchord,
Stiv Bators,
Pylon, Pylon, Pylon, Pylon.
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.