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 Nauru and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the guitar 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 Frankie Knuckles to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Ponytail. All the underground hits.
All Stereo Dub tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Velvet Underground record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a mellotron 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 an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tropical Tobacco,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Aaron Thompson,
Surgeon,
The Vogues,
Sun Ra,
the Human League,
Duran Duran,
Howard Jones,
Joyce Sims,
Cymande,
Silicon Teens,
Little Man,
Chrome,
Crispian St. Peters,
Trumans Water,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Lyres,
Alison Limerick,
Gerry Rafferty,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Schoolly D,
Sugar Minott,
The Move,
Sun City Girls,
Pulsallama,
The Red Krayola,
The Dirtbombs,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Sarah Menescal,
Khruangbin,
Television,
Q and Not U,
Dorothy Ashby,
Motorama,
Wasted Youth,
Anthony Braxton,
DJ Sneak,
Panda Bear,
Jeru the Damaja,
Sound Behaviour,
The Flesh Eaters,
Accadde A,
The Real Kids,
The Gun Club,
Tubeway Army,
Todd Terry,
Peter & Gordon,
The New Christs,
Metal Thangz,
Parry Music,
Fluxion,
Vladislav Delay,
Black Sheep,
X-101,
Ornette Coleman,
Rhythm & Sound,
Kevin Saunderson,
Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science.
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.