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 Uganda and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Philadelphia.
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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 The Durutti Column to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Alison Limerick. All the underground hits.
All Fela Kuti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers Ubiquity record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 rhodes and a synthesizer 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 marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Index,
Lee Hazlewood,
the Slits,
D'Angelo,
Tim Buckley,
Outsiders,
The Pop Group,
The Gun Club,
Susan Cadogan,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Crime,
The United States of America,
John Cale,
Suburban Knight,
K-Klass,
Dawn Penn,
Con Funk Shun,
Lakeside,
Slick Rick,
Bobby Sherman,
Ossler,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Grauzone,
Duran Duran,
Soul Sonic Force,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Absolute Body Control,
Johnny Clarke,
The Fall,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Five Americans,
Rufus Thomas,
Kaleidoscope,
Los Fastidios,
China Crisis,
Sällskapet,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Infiniti,
The Gories,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Vogues,
The Buckinghams,
Rod Modell,
Tropical Tobacco,
Boz Scaggs,
Aswad,
Joe Smooth,
Bauhaus,
Robert Wyatt,
The Doors,
Chris Corsano,
Zapp,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Nico,
E-Dancer,
Erasure,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Names,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Beau Brummels,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Gastr Del Sol,
Severed Heads,
Moby Grape, Moby Grape, Moby Grape, Moby Grape.
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.