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 Costa Rica and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 sitar 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 Rosa Yemen to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 OOIOO. All the underground hits.
All The Kinks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every ABBA record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 808 and a clarinet 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 harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deepchord,
Nik Kershaw,
Colin Newman,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Cramps,
Rites of Spring,
Tres Demented,
Aaron Thompson,
Clear Light,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Pole,
David Axelrod,
Lyres,
Flash Fearless,
The Electric Prunes,
Joyce Sims,
Tubeway Army,
Hashim,
Man Parrish,
Bauhaus,
Todd Terry,
Roxette,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Inner City,
Marcia Griffiths,
Sex Pistols,
Motorama,
KRS-One,
Organ,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Monks,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Marvin Gaye,
Marc Almond,
Todd Rundgren,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Detroit Cobras,
U.S. Maple,
The Doors,
The Vogues,
Magazine,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Bush Tetras,
Sarah Menescal,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Laurel Aitken,
Scion,
Andrew Hill,
Radiohead,
Pantytec,
Letta Mbulu,
Gang Green,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Harry Pussy,
Spandau Ballet,
Tropical Tobacco,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Glambeats Corp.,
Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers.
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.