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 Pakistan and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Crash Course in Science to the grunge 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 Cluster. All the underground hits.
All Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Charles Mingus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Avey Tare 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?
Man Eating Sloth,
Amon Düül,
The Gladiators,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Leaves,
Freddie Wadling,
Nico,
the Sonics,
Donald Byrd,
Schoolly D,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Seeds,
Groovy Waters,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Massinfluence,
Oblivians,
Pantytec,
Glenn Branca,
Terrestrial Tones,
Mark Hollis,
Hoover,
Frankie Knuckles,
Johnny Clarke,
Pere Ubu,
Talk Talk,
The Birthday Party,
Alphaville,
Sight & Sound,
Sister Nancy,
Hot Snakes,
Dual Sessions,
KRS-One,
Thee Headcoats,
Flipper,
Tomorrow,
Black Pus,
Danielle Patucci,
Lucky Dragons,
Kurtis Blow,
The Velvet Underground,
Harry Pussy,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Doors,
UT,
Whodini,
The Cure,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Pharoah Sanders,
Sex Pistols,
Swell Maps,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Fear,
Bill Wells,
The Music Machine,
Hardrive,
Lower 48,
Alice Coltrane,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Theoretical Girls,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Scion,
Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode.
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.