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 Egypt and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Winnipeg.
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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Vaughan Mason & Crew to the grime 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 The Flesh Eaters. All the underground hits.
All Slave tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Judy Mowatt 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a rhodes 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 sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stockholm Monsters,
Gang Gang Dance,
Swell Maps,
Barclay James Harvest,
Gastr Del Sol,
Bobby Womack,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Moody Blues,
Camouflage,
Roxy Music,
E-Dancer,
Reuben Wilson,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Intrusion,
Peter and Kerry,
Sly & The Family Stone,
the Swans,
Al Stewart,
Fatback Band,
Bobby Byrd,
Ice-T,
Traffic Nightmare,
Flamin' Groovies,
World's Most,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Porter Ricks,
Dark Day,
Urselle,
The Index,
The Martian,
Guru Guru,
Roy Ayers,
Marvin Gaye,
Lucky Dragons,
Procol Harum,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Marcia Griffiths,
Sex Pistols,
The Buckinghams,
Josef K,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Stooges,
Silicon Teens,
Piero Umiliani,
Rosa Yemen,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Mummies,
Infiniti,
Scratch Acid,
MC5,
10cc,
The Electric Prunes,
The Monks,
The Names,
Delon & Dalcan,
Dawn Penn,
Yazoo, Yazoo, Yazoo, Yazoo.
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.