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 Colombia and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the marimba 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 The Black Dice to the electroclash 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 Ten City. All the underground hits.
All Selector Dub Narcotic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ash Ra Tempel record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a spring reverb 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 synthesizer and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Patti Smith,
Stiv Bators,
Angry Samoans,
Frankie Knuckles,
Rufus Thomas,
Crime,
Fad Gadget,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Slick Rick,
Bizarre Inc.,
Glambeats Corp.,
China Crisis,
Lalo Schifrin,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Nik Kershaw,
The Star Department,
Michelle Simonal,
Harry Pussy,
Rapeman,
Massinfluence,
AZ,
The Raincoats,
Blossom Toes,
Franke,
Clear Light,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Electric Prunes,
Jeff Mills,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Laurel Aitken,
Nick Fraelich,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Kurtis Blow,
The Victims,
Duran Duran,
Reuben Wilson,
Arcadia,
Idris Muhammad,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Five Americans,
Prince Buster,
Gong,
Sun City Girls,
Lower 48,
Marmalade,
Man Parrish,
Suicide,
Sexual Harrassment,
Mantronix,
Stereo Dub,
Masters at Work,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Jacob Miller,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Charles Mingus,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.