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 Latvia and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Hong Kong.
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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the sitar 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 Robert Hood to the jazz 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 Wally Richardson. All the underground hits.
All Arcadia tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every These Immortal Souls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a linndrum 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 theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Desert Stars,
The Litter,
Mark Hollis,
Darondo,
Radio Birdman,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Red Krayola,
Gabor Szabo,
The Kinks,
The Gun Club,
Marine Girls,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Lee Hazlewood,
ABC,
Lightning Bolt,
Howard Jones,
Shoche,
Marshall Jefferson,
Quantec,
Pulsallama,
DJ Style,
The Selecter,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Scott Walker,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Sonny Sharrock,
Rakim,
Yaz,
Saccharine Trust,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Angels of Light,
Dark Day,
Warren Ellis,
Lalo Schifrin,
Al Stewart,
Goldenarms,
Aloha Tigers,
One Last Wish,
Todd Terry,
Grandmaster Flash,
kango's stein massive,
X-102,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Mars,
Swell Maps,
The Sonics,
The Sound,
Altered Images,
The Standells,
This Heat,
Parry Music,
Eddi Front,
The Trojans,
Chris & Cosey,
The Associates,
John Foxx,
Babytalk,
Blancmange,
Andrew Hill,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Fugazi,
Essential Logic, Essential Logic, Essential Logic, Essential Logic.
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.