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 Germany and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Tokyo.
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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 John Lydon to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Babytalk. All the underground hits.
All Blake Baxter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Banda Bassotti 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Index record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Maleditus Sound,
The Human League,
Alice Coltrane,
Pylon,
Josef K,
The Music Machine,
Todd Rundgren,
Theoretical Girls,
Albert Ayler,
ABC,
Henry Cow,
Peter and Kerry,
Country Joe & The Fish,
the Association,
David Axelrod,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Moby Grape,
The Dirtbombs,
Das Ding,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Agent Orange,
Nico,
The Associates,
ABBA,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Bob Dylan,
Bad Manners,
Sun Ra,
Babytalk,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Fifty Foot Hose,
F. McDonald,
Country Teasers,
the Soft Cell,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Radio Birdman,
Freddie Wadling,
Roxette,
Wings,
X-102,
The Cowsills,
MC5,
Big Daddy Kane,
One Last Wish,
Spoonie Gee,
Popol Vuh,
FM Einheit,
Kerrie Biddell,
cv313,
Wally Richardson,
The Fuzztones,
Dead Boys,
Lee Hazlewood,
Laurel Aitken,
Bobby Byrd,
Hardrive,
Crispian St. Peters,
Rhythm & Sound,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Angels of Light,
Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick.
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.