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 Laos and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the organ 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 Wings to the funk 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 Inner City. All the underground hits.
All The Offenders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blake Baxter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a snare 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 arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Agent Orange,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Howard Jones,
Donald Byrd,
Mr. Review,
H. Thieme,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Crispy Ambulance,
Suicide,
Ornette Coleman,
Delta 5,
Drexciya,
Aural Exciters,
ABBA,
Harmonia,
Symarip,
PIL,
Joe Smooth,
Crime,
Deadbeat,
D'Angelo,
Throbbing Gristle,
Wolf Eyes,
Quadrant,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Todd Terry,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Drive Like Jehu,
Scott Walker,
Colin Newman,
E-Dancer,
Liliput,
Lyres,
Kas Product,
The Smoke,
Trumans Water,
Gabor Szabo,
Althea and Donna,
Monolake,
Underground Resistance,
Second Layer,
Anakelly,
Goldenarms,
Camouflage,
Yaz,
The Slits,
Theoretical Girls,
Nils Olav,
Fat Boys,
Icehouse,
Derrick May,
The Standells,
Junior Murvin,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Tres Demented,
Kevin Saunderson,
Ultravox,
Terry Callier,
Soft Cell,
Steve Hackett,
Das Ding,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
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.