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 Tonga and from Lille.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the sitar 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 Pierre Henry to the rap 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 Camouflage. All the underground hits.
All Deakin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siouxsie and the Banshees record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dead C record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Names,
June Days,
Audionom,
Fugazi,
The Buckinghams,
FM Einheit,
Ituana,
Ice-T,
Popol Vuh,
The Electric Prunes,
K-Klass,
The Five Americans,
Crispian St. Peters,
Scrapy,
Fatback Band,
Jerry's Kids,
the Fania All-Stars,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Angry Samoans,
Sixth Finger,
The Sonics,
Black Moon,
Tres Demented,
Altered Images,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Eli Mardock,
Flipper,
Maleditus Sound,
Depeche Mode,
Blake Baxter,
The Victims,
Agent Orange,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
cv313,
Sex Pistols,
Graham Central Station,
Man Parrish,
Heaven 17,
Boz Scaggs,
Aloha Tigers,
The Smiths,
The Skatalites,
Accadde A,
The Index,
Sugar Minott,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Ken Boothe,
The Slits,
Thompson Twins,
Mo-Dettes,
Dark Day,
Joensuu 1685,
Y Pants,
Absolute Body Control,
The Young Rascals,
The Music Machine,
OOIOO,
Marmalade,
Pulsallama,
Sällskapet,
Andrew Hill,
Lyres,
The Dave Clark Five, The Dave Clark Five, The Dave Clark Five, The Dave Clark Five.
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.