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 Sierra Leone and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Morten Harket to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Victims. All the underground hits.
All The Fugs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Maurizio record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 synthesizer and a theremin 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 organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Doobie Brothers,
UT,
The Cure,
R.M.O.,
The Tremeloes,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Icehouse,
The Offenders,
The Leaves,
The Count Five,
Television Personalities,
Piero Umiliani,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Lungfish,
Stockholm Monsters,
PIL,
Soul II Soul,
Ornette Coleman,
Eric B and Rakim,
Nico,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Henry Cow,
Leonard Cohen,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Deakin,
Monolake,
Mo-Dettes,
Harry Pussy,
Wally Richardson,
Aloha Tigers,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Blossom Toes,
U.S. Maple,
Carl Craig,
Matthew Halsall,
The Fall,
John Cale,
Skaos,
Sexual Harrassment,
Bang On A Can,
Connie Case,
Barbara Tucker,
Byron Stingily,
Tears for Fears,
Loose Ends,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
New Age Steppers,
Cal Tjader,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Eurythmics,
Ultra Naté,
Young Marble Giants,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Lee Hazlewood,
Blake Baxter,
Technova,
Davy DMX,
The Motions,
Anthony Braxton,
A Certain Ratio,
Yusef Lateef,
Hashim, Hashim, Hashim, Hashim.
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.