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 Samoa and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Roger Hodgson to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Mars. All the underground hits.
All Flipper tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Laurel Aitken record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a guitar 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 güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Near,
Dawn Penn,
The Selecter,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Star Department,
Lyres,
The Mojo Men,
Iggy Pop,
La Düsseldorf,
Nick Fraelich,
Desert Stars,
The Pretty Things,
U.S. Maple,
Jacob Miller,
Glambeats Corp.,
Japan,
The Saints,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The United States of America,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Victims,
Patti Smith,
The Golliwogs,
Hashim,
Niagra,
Blancmange,
Swell Maps,
Maleditus Sound,
Gastr Del Sol,
Los Fastidios,
Crooked Eye,
Barbara Tucker,
The Human League,
The Associates,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Harry Pussy,
Outsiders,
Radio Birdman,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Blackbyrds,
The Sound,
Camberwell Now,
The Last Poets,
Leonard Cohen,
Tropical Tobacco,
Morten Harket,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Barrington Levy,
F. McDonald,
Roxette,
The Smoke,
Grey Daturas,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Slick Rick,
Goldenarms,
Mantronix,
The Names,
Newcleus,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Unwound,
James White and The Blacks,
Erasure,
Crime,
Subhumans,
Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls.
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.