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 Slovakia and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Stockholm.
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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 New Order to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Gastr Del Sol. All the underground hits.
All The Doors tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harry Pussy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a theremin 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 spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fat Boys,
48th St. Collective,
Ralphi Rosario,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
the Fania All-Stars,
Aloha Tigers,
Liliput,
Letta Mbulu,
Rites of Spring,
The Cramps,
Tom Boy,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Unrelated Segments,
Soulsonic Force,
The Real Kids,
Chris Corsano,
Frankie Knuckles,
Iggy Pop,
Marc Almond,
Bizarre Inc.,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Lightning Bolt,
The Slits,
Moss Icon,
The Zeros,
Monolake,
Janne Schatter,
Simply Red,
Sparks,
Eric Dolphy,
the Slits,
The Martian,
The Cowsills,
Kevin Saunderson,
Terry Callier,
Public Image Ltd.,
the Human League,
Whodini,
Eric Copeland,
Steve Hackett,
Sandy B,
AZ,
Pantaleimon,
Banda Bassotti,
Slick Rick,
Lebanon Hanover,
Ohio Players,
Brothers Johnson,
The Gladiators,
The Moody Blues,
Althea and Donna,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Eden Ahbez,
Harmonia,
Hashim,
Toni Rubio,
The Remains,
Nick Fraelich,
Dual Sessions,
Aswad,
Faust, Faust, Faust, Faust.
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.