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 Bhutan and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the sitar 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 Soulsonic Force to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Jesper Dahlback. All the underground hits.
All Lakeside tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bob Dylan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 a mellotron and a 808 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 theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nation of Ulysses,
Flash Fearless,
Max Romeo,
the Fania All-Stars,
Black Flag,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Slackers,
The Seeds,
Sonny Sharrock,
Duran Duran,
Von Mondo,
Gang of Four,
Sister Nancy,
Derrick May,
Sun Ra,
Pharoah Sanders,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Alison Limerick,
Lou Reed,
Bad Manners,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Gap Band,
Joyce Sims,
Gabor Szabo,
Anthony Braxton,
Radiopuhelimet,
Soft Cell,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Tom Boy,
Soulsonic Force,
La Düsseldorf,
Bang On A Can,
T.S.O.L.,
Japan,
the Sonics,
The Smiths,
Arthur Verocai,
Eli Mardock,
Vainqueur,
Adolescents,
Crispy Ambulance,
Urselle,
Colin Newman,
DNA,
The Gories,
Iggy Pop,
Oneida,
Lungfish,
Danielle Patucci,
Minor Threat,
Unwound,
Moss Icon,
Freddie Wadling,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Eric Copeland,
Drexciya,
The Young Rascals,
Sandy B,
In Retrospect,
Q and Not U,
Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza.
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.