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 Guyana and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron 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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Ohio Players to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 John Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & John Cale tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Archie Shepp record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 an oboe and a mellotron 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 linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Zero Boys,
Moebius,
Erykah Badu,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Tomorrow,
Kenny Larkin,
Ituana,
The Sound,
Monks,
Lungfish,
The Victims,
Radio Birdman,
Kayak,
Tom Boy,
Nico,
Grandmaster Flash,
Country Teasers,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Mark Hollis,
Althea and Donna,
Gil Scott Heron,
Fat Boys,
Icehouse,
The Fugs,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Erasure,
Isaac Hayes,
Wasted Youth,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Danielle Patucci,
Jacob Miller,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Toasters,
Aswad,
Moss Icon,
The Buckinghams,
Intrusion,
The Searchers,
Los Fastidios,
Infiniti,
The Music Machine,
Ten City,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Excepter,
Can,
Deepchord,
Prince Buster,
The Star Department,
Young Marble Giants,
The Litter,
Suburban Knight,
Average White Band,
Ronnie Foster,
Ludus,
Desert Stars,
Darondo,
DJ Sneak,
Robert Hood, Robert Hood, Robert Hood, Robert Hood.
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.