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 Comoros and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds to the electroclash 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 Althea and Donna. All the underground hits.
All Davy DMX tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Parry Music 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer 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 marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Moon,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Gichy Dan,
E-Dancer,
Crispy Ambulance,
Whodini,
One Last Wish,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ohio Players,
The Birthday Party,
Pierre Henry,
The Alarm Clocks,
Wolf Eyes,
the Germs,
Mandrill,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Velvet Underground,
K-Klass,
Main Source,
Scion,
Soul II Soul,
Black Bananas,
Tres Demented,
Von Mondo,
Ronan,
Pantytec,
Electric Prunes,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Wire,
Model 500,
Audionom,
Warsaw,
Urselle,
Peter and Kerry,
The New Christs,
Harmonia,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Colin Newman,
Gang Starr,
Interpol,
Juan Atkins,
Byron Stingily,
Nation of Ulysses,
Lindisfarne,
Infiniti,
John Cale,
Essential Logic,
Al Stewart,
Sällskapet,
Bizarre Inc.,
Crash Course in Science,
Bootsy Collins,
Ituana,
Panda Bear,
X-101,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Young Rascals,
Boredoms,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Standells,
Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren.
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.