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 Bahamas and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in 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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Jesper Dahlbäck to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Doors. All the underground hits.
All Soft Cell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Bananas 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aswad record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suicide,
Eve St. Jones,
Joy Division,
Roy Ayers,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Oblivians,
Hardrive,
New Order,
Danielle Patucci,
Eli Mardock,
Man Parrish,
Bootsy Collins,
The Remains,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Ohio Players,
Eddi Front,
Television,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Lalo Schifrin,
New York Dolls,
Harmonia,
Johnny Clarke,
Niagra,
The Last Poets,
Stiv Bators,
The Martian,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Gong,
Frankie Knuckles,
Pantytec,
Trumans Water,
Fad Gadget,
The Move,
Sexual Harrassment,
Stereo Dub,
The Pop Group,
The Buckinghams,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Henry Cow,
Mark Hollis,
Tommy Roe,
Mr. Review,
Barry Ungar,
Fluxion,
Brothers Johnson,
kango's stein massive,
Funkadelic,
Absolute Body Control,
Mars,
Sex Pistols,
The Wake,
Gerry Rafferty,
AZ,
Ludus,
LL Cool J,
Neu!,
The Doors,
Ornette Coleman,
Motorama,
Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey.
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.