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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Barclay James Harvest to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Piero Umiliani. All the underground hits.
All Eden Ahbez tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Intrusion record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an oboe 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 snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Donald Byrd,
Tubeway Army,
Subhumans,
June of 44,
T. Rex,
The Remains,
Von Mondo,
the Fania All-Stars,
Todd Rundgren,
Derrick Morgan,
John Foxx,
Howard Jones,
Saccharine Trust,
Tears for Fears,
The Cowsills,
The Dirtbombs,
The Fall,
John Lydon,
Crash Course in Science,
Ken Boothe,
Lyres,
Gabor Szabo,
Porter Ricks,
Anakelly,
Marvin Gaye,
Au Pairs,
The Pop Group,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Soul Sonic Force,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Fugs,
Eurythmics,
Byron Stingily,
Pharoah Sanders,
Aswad,
New York Dolls,
Neil Young,
KRS-One,
Fluxion,
Hot Snakes,
Reuben Wilson,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Oneida,
The J.B.'s,
Crispian St. Peters,
Kerri Chandler,
The Moody Blues,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Zapp,
Rites of Spring,
Interpol,
The Shadows of Knight,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Searchers,
Chris Corsano,
La Düsseldorf,
The Modern Lovers,
48th St. Collective,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies.
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.