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 Slovakia and from Salvador.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Audionom to the grunge 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 Jawbox. All the underground hits.
All Surgeon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fad Gadget 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camouflage,
Oneida,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Gong,
The Blackbyrds,
Erykah Badu,
UT,
Eric B and Rakim,
Lou Christie,
The Black Dice,
Porter Ricks,
Lalo Schifrin,
Toni Rubio,
Schoolly D,
The Remains,
Maleditus Sound,
The Sound,
The Litter,
Lucky Dragons,
The Buckinghams,
the Bar-Kays,
X-102,
Black Flag,
Youth Brigade,
R.M.O.,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Bush Tetras,
Steve Hackett,
Radio Birdman,
The Gories,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Cramps,
Pierre Henry,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Rufus Thomas,
Idris Muhammad,
Motorama,
Sonic Youth,
Jeff Mills,
Skriet,
The Martian,
Parry Music,
Scion,
John Holt,
The Searchers,
Moebius,
The Gladiators,
Minutemen,
Wire,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
F. McDonald,
Sex Pistols,
Soul Sonic Force,
Ken Boothe,
Average White Band,
Spandau Ballet,
Prince Buster,
The Knickerbockers,
Ludus,
The Pretty Things,
Lindisfarne,
The Seeds,
The Red Krayola,
Robert Hood, Robert Hood, Robert Hood, Robert Hood.
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.