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 Guinea-Bissau and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the sitar 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 Basic Channel to the jazz 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 Dave Gahan. All the underground hits.
All Girls At Our Best! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Second Layer record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin 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 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fat Boys,
The Alarm Clocks,
Supertramp,
Don Cherry,
PIL,
Moss Icon,
Fad Gadget,
AZ,
Girls At Our Best!,
Minor Threat,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Adolescents,
The Detroit Cobras,
David McCallum,
Pussy Galore,
Tomorrow,
Bobby Sherman,
Circle Jerks,
Black Moon,
Kurtis Blow,
The Cowsills,
Althea and Donna,
Magazine,
Ken Boothe,
Sexual Harrassment,
Smog,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Echospace,
Matthew Halsall,
Severed Heads,
MC5,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Barrington Levy,
Byron Stingily,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Jeff Mills,
Pet Shop Boys,
Procol Harum,
Aural Exciters,
Hoover,
the Sonics,
Eden Ahbez,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Underground Resistance,
Letta Mbulu,
Dawn Penn,
Rod Modell,
Marmalade,
Silicon Teens,
The Monks,
Niagra,
Scott Walker,
X-102,
Sam Rivers,
Connie Case,
Television,
Guru Guru,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls.
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.