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 Ivory Coast and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 Mexico City and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Shuggie Otis to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Thee Headcoats. All the underground hits.
All The Slits tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T.S.O.L. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an arpeggiator and a clarinet 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 arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agent Orange,
Make Up,
the Association,
Stereo Dub,
Joe Smooth,
Procol Harum,
The Remains,
Al Stewart,
Monks,
Robert Görl,
Kerri Chandler,
Pantaleimon,
JFA,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Boredoms,
Radio Birdman,
Kenny Larkin,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Severed Heads,
Sex Pistols,
Minutemen,
The Blues Magoos,
The Grass Roots,
Roxette,
The Doobie Brothers,
Ronnie Foster,
Matthew Halsall,
Glenn Branca,
Simply Red,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
China Crisis,
Idris Muhammad,
Vainqueur,
Godley & Creme,
Goldenarms,
ABBA,
Sound Behaviour,
The Modern Lovers,
Kevin Saunderson,
Dorothy Ashby,
Accadde A,
Nils Olav,
Khruangbin,
The Fuzztones,
Black Bananas,
Smog,
Josef K,
The Durutti Column,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Cheater Slicks,
Can,
Das Ding,
Ossler,
Y Pants,
Pagans,
L. Decosne,
Eddi Front,
Ten City,
Ronan, Ronan, Ronan, Ronan.
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.