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 Luxembourg and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Bush Tetras to the punk 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 Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra. All the underground hits.
All John Foxx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every KRS-One record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a rhodes 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 chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Maurizio,
James White and The Blacks,
Smog,
Carl Craig,
Pussy Galore,
Glambeats Corp.,
Fat Boys,
Rekid,
Q65,
Aloha Tigers,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Invisible,
cv313,
Dark Day,
Henry Cow,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Bobby Sherman,
Scott Walker,
the Association,
Lalann,
The Associates,
The Index,
Underground Resistance,
Sandy B,
Buzzcocks,
Fluxion,
The Stooges,
Ten City,
Sex Pistols,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Siglo XX,
Inner City,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Charles Mingus,
E-Dancer,
Fear,
Skriet,
A Certain Ratio,
Prince Buster,
Basic Channel,
MC5,
kango's stein massive,
The Black Dice,
Jesper Dahlback,
Nils Olav,
Drexciya,
Sun City Girls,
These Immortal Souls,
Peter and Kerry,
Judy Mowatt,
Animal Collective,
Steve Hackett,
the Swans,
Swans,
Eric Copeland,
The Fugs,
Barry Ungar,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan.
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.