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 Dominican Republic and from Lagos.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Pierre Henry to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark. All the underground hits.
All Ponytail tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Charles Mingus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a linndrum 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 chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Depeche Mode,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Make Up,
the Association,
The New Christs,
Sound Behaviour,
Sight & Sound,
Ultra Naté,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Associates,
Swell Maps,
K-Klass,
Peter and Kerry,
Dorothy Ashby,
Aural Exciters,
Q65,
Moby Grape,
Alice Coltrane,
Ultimate Spinach,
Charles Mingus,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Danielle Patucci,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Smoke,
Radiopuhelimet,
Icehouse,
Blancmange,
Cluster,
UT,
Marshall Jefferson,
Crispy Ambulance,
Zero Boys,
Radio Birdman,
New Age Steppers,
Massinfluence,
Half Japanese,
Basic Channel,
Suicide,
Supertramp,
Deakin,
Colin Newman,
Porter Ricks,
Hardrive,
Tres Demented,
Reagan Youth,
Scratch Acid,
Brass Construction,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Last Poets,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Fall,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Misunderstood,
Warren Ellis,
L. Decosne,
Dave Gahan,
Kas Product,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Man Parrish,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Moleskins,
Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich.
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.