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 Kiribati and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Rufus Thomas to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Barry Ungar. All the underground hits.
All The New Christs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mantronix record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 guitar and a spring reverb 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 arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nation of Ulysses,
Malaria!,
Tropical Tobacco,
Severed Heads,
Wings,
The Walker Brothers,
Royal Trux,
Lightning Bolt,
The Last Poets,
Arthur Verocai,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Spandau Ballet,
Barbara Tucker,
Grey Daturas,
Marcia Griffiths,
Bauhaus,
Ponytail,
Negative Approach,
Roy Ayers,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Victims,
The Red Krayola,
Delon & Dalcan,
Bad Manners,
Mary Jane Girls,
Rosa Yemen,
Iggy Pop,
The Pop Group,
Absolute Body Control,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Saints,
Fort Wilson Riot,
L. Decosne,
Yaz,
E-Dancer,
Monks,
The Zeros,
T. Rex,
Erasure,
Altered Images,
Deakin,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Music Machine,
La Düsseldorf,
Hoover,
Zapp,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Monks,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Bobby Sherman,
Tomorrow,
Deadbeat,
Glambeats Corp.,
Curtis Mayfield,
Mad Mike,
X-102,
China Crisis,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes.
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.