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 Antigua and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Pussy Galore to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Parry Music. All the underground hits.
All Porter Ricks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angry Samoans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an oboe 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 marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Busters,
Deepchord,
Deadbeat,
Sandy B,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Doobie Brothers,
Sixth Finger,
Mr. Review,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Seeds,
Hasil Adkins,
Rod Modell,
Blake Baxter,
the Swans,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
D'Angelo,
Mo-Dettes,
The Litter,
Wire,
Pierre Henry,
Sound Behaviour,
Drive Like Jehu,
Panda Bear,
Quando Quango,
Angry Samoans,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Hoover,
Cluster,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Cheater Slicks,
Andrew Hill,
Stetsasonic,
Ornette Coleman,
Urselle,
The Buckinghams,
Rufus Thomas,
The Pop Group,
Zapp,
Radiopuhelimet,
Jeff Lynne,
The Modern Lovers,
Jesper Dahlback,
ABC,
Sonic Youth,
Ossler,
Gastr Del Sol,
Eric Dolphy,
The Selecter,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Associates,
John Coltrane,
Yaz,
Mad Mike,
Scientists,
Tomorrow,
Gang Starr,
The Barracudas,
The Residents,
Gong,
Interpol,
Agitation Free,
Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army.
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.