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 Bhutan and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Joyce Sims to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Model 500. All the underground hits.
All LL Cool J tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marvin Gaye record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a 808 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 808 and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Parry Music,
Howard Jones,
Jacques Brel,
Intrusion,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Cluster,
Funkadelic,
Severed Heads,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Index,
The Flesh Eaters,
Lungfish,
Moby Grape,
Ultra Naté,
The Residents,
China Crisis,
The Red Krayola,
A Certain Ratio,
Brand Nubian,
Jawbox,
The Martian,
The Dirtbombs,
Delon & Dalcan,
Jeru the Damaja,
Iggy Pop,
Morten Harket,
Grauzone,
Wolf Eyes,
Clear Light,
David Bowie,
The Real Kids,
Technova,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
T.S.O.L.,
Buzzcocks,
Avey Tare,
Livin' Joy,
Sällskapet,
The Black Dice,
Hasil Adkins,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
John Cale,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Oblivians,
Electric Prunes,
Max Romeo,
Sparks,
Carl Craig,
Patti Smith,
Faraquet,
Mark Hollis,
Junior Murvin,
Eric Copeland,
Stiv Bators,
Flamin' Groovies,
Wire,
Lightning Bolt,
Make Up,
Bobby Sherman,
Yaz,
Alice Coltrane,
MC5, MC5, MC5, MC5.
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.