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 Seychelles and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Khruangbin. All the underground hits.
All Sunsets and Hearts tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Henry Cow 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 a spring reverb and a guitar 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 chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Qualms,
Sugar Minott,
Youth Brigade,
Q and Not U,
Big Daddy Kane,
Mark Hollis,
Television Personalities,
Pet Shop Boys,
Ralphi Rosario,
Jacob Miller,
Symarip,
Cymande,
One Last Wish,
Alton Ellis,
Radio Birdman,
Severed Heads,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Sarah Menescal,
Albert Ayler,
Suburban Knight,
Wire,
Pussy Galore,
The Mojo Men,
Organ,
These Immortal Souls,
Terrestrial Tones,
Piero Umiliani,
Avey Tare,
Siglo XX,
The Human League,
Depeche Mode,
Popol Vuh,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Bobby Sherman,
Eurythmics,
Laurel Aitken,
The Pretty Things,
Thee Headcoats,
Neil Young,
kango's stein massive,
Electric Prunes,
Toni Rubio,
Nik Kershaw,
ABC,
Pantaleimon,
Black Moon,
Cal Tjader,
Jeff Lynne,
The Fortunes,
Man Parrish,
Royal Trux,
The Walker Brothers,
Sound Behaviour,
X-102,
Rakim,
Aural Exciters,
Zapp,
Section 25,
Dennis Brown,
Jerry Gold Smith,
La Düsseldorf,
Cybotron,
Public Image Ltd., Public Image Ltd., Public Image Ltd., Public Image Ltd..
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.