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 Bulgaria and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Brass Construction to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Robert Wyatt. All the underground hits.
All The Jesus and Mary Chain tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kerri Chandler 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Traffic Nightmare,
H. Thieme,
The Divine Comedy,
The Mummies,
Trumans Water,
Charles Mingus,
Amon Düül II,
The Vogues,
Loose Ends,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Barry Ungar,
Roxette,
The United States of America,
Inner City,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Lou Christie,
Avey Tare,
Soft Cell,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Fugs,
Joensuu 1685,
The Pretty Things,
Robert Wyatt,
The Grass Roots,
Sparks,
John Cale,
Brand Nubian,
Franke,
Jacques Brel,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Liliput,
Parry Music,
The Doors,
Ronan,
Ludus,
X-Ray Spex,
Man Parrish,
Pere Ubu,
Bush Tetras,
The Golliwogs,
Rufus Thomas,
Neil Young,
Archie Shepp,
Mo-Dettes,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Unrelated Segments,
Davy DMX,
The Velvet Underground,
Judy Mowatt,
Nils Olav,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Pole,
Deakin,
Isaac Hayes,
Alphaville,
Boz Scaggs,
Technova,
Wally Richardson,
Neu!,
Susan Cadogan,
Stockholm Monsters,
Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco.
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.