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 Grenada and from Manila.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Fifty Foot Hose to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Traffic Nightmare. All the underground hits.
All Roger Hodgson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Erykah Badu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an oboe 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 snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Girls At Our Best!,
Ken Boothe,
Aswad,
Mo-Dettes,
Babytalk,
Andrew Hill,
Wings,
The Pop Group,
Circle Jerks,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Janne Schatter,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
New York Dolls,
Minor Threat,
Harmonia,
Mantronix,
Smog,
The Knickerbockers,
Young Marble Giants,
The Toasters,
The Young Rascals,
Todd Terry,
Average White Band,
Scientists,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Nick Fraelich,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Misunderstood,
Arthur Verocai,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Gladiators,
Junior Murvin,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Pagans,
Country Joe & The Fish,
the Slits,
Echospace,
Saccharine Trust,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Danielle Patucci,
Michelle Simonal,
Sonny Sharrock,
John Coltrane,
Easy Going,
The Fortunes,
Warsaw,
The Buckinghams,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Eric Copeland,
The Victims,
Bang On A Can,
D'Angelo,
Byron Stingily,
The Fuzztones,
Symarip,
Sex Pistols,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Music Machine,
Stereo Dub,
FM Einheit,
Gang Gang Dance,
Procol Harum,
The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang.
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.