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 Denmark and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 EPMD to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Newcleus. All the underground hits.
All T. Rex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rosa Yemen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 a rhodes and an oboe 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 spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amazonics,
June of 44,
F. McDonald,
Ponytail,
Section 25,
Marcia Griffiths,
cv313,
Amon Düül,
Circle Jerks,
Soft Machine,
Be Bop Deluxe,
MC5,
The Divine Comedy,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Alarm Clocks,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Depeche Mode,
Boz Scaggs,
Colin Newman,
Blancmange,
The Vogues,
Angry Samoans,
Ken Boothe,
Babytalk,
The Index,
The Smiths,
Matthew Bourne,
Archie Shepp,
New York Dolls,
Dark Day,
Ossler,
The Motions,
Scion,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Sandy B,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Blackbyrds,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Kinks,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Marc Almond,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Slick Rick,
Procol Harum,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Moody Blues,
Dual Sessions,
Mo-Dettes,
The Modern Lovers,
Lakeside,
the Soft Cell,
The Techniques,
Aswad,
Eli Mardock,
Marvin Gaye,
Clear Light,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Vladislav Delay,
Public Image Ltd.,
Minor Threat,
Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks.
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.