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 Costa Rica and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 The Standells to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Alarm Clocks. All the underground hits.
All Dead Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eurythmics record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a snare 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 linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Cale,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Mojo Men,
Henry Cow,
Idris Muhammad,
The Divine Comedy,
Boogie Down Productions,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
the Bar-Kays,
Angry Samoans,
Scrapy,
Skaos,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Warren Ellis,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
La Düsseldorf,
John Lydon,
Procol Harum,
The J.B.'s,
Eurythmics,
Black Moon,
Amon Düül,
Massinfluence,
Traffic Nightmare,
Grandmaster Flash,
Niagra,
Steve Hackett,
Bronski Beat,
Alphaville,
Mr. Review,
Hardrive,
Bill Near,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Selecter,
Bobby Sherman,
Unwound,
Royal Trux,
The Gladiators,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Symarip,
The Young Rascals,
Dave Gahan,
Ultra Naté,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Associates,
Tubeway Army,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Mad Mike,
Barbara Tucker,
Bang On A Can,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Harry Pussy,
Sister Nancy,
Agent Orange,
Eve St. Jones,
The Fire Engines,
Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen.
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.