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 Suriname and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Colin Newman to the jazz 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 The J.B.'s. All the underground hits.
All Rhythm & Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fort Wilson Riot record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a harpsichord 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 organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun Ra,
Depeche Mode,
Rites of Spring,
Connie Case,
Flamin' Groovies,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Names,
Mandrill,
Niagra,
Gang Starr,
The Seeds,
New York Dolls,
Man Eating Sloth,
Ponytail,
Fluxion,
Malaria!,
The Trojans,
Bill Wells,
the Human League,
Swans,
Zero Boys,
Grandmaster Flash,
This Heat,
Danielle Patucci,
Neil Young,
The Misunderstood,
Crispian St. Peters,
Johnny Osbourne,
Rhythm & Sound,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Arthur Verocai,
Excepter,
Circle Jerks,
Sound Behaviour,
The Pop Group,
Mr. Review,
Slick Rick,
The Raincoats,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Tommy Roe,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Scan 7,
Big Daddy Kane,
In Retrospect,
Judy Mowatt,
Pet Shop Boys,
Jesper Dahlback,
Jimmy McGriff,
Symarip,
Cymande,
Toni Rubio,
Infiniti,
Hashim,
These Immortal Souls,
Animal Collective,
Brick,
Masters at Work,
Altered Images,
MDC,
Clear Light,
Faust,
Average White Band,
Von Mondo,
The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice.
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.