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 Senegal and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 The Searchers to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Gil Scott Heron. All the underground hits.
All The Human League tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every OOIOO record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a 808 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 spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sly & The Family Stone,
Terry Callier,
Pere Ubu,
Icehouse,
The Dead C,
Soft Machine,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Masters at Work,
B.T. Express,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Detroit Cobras,
K-Klass,
The Evens,
June Days,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Aloha Tigers,
H. Thieme,
Alphaville,
Harpers Bizarre,
Gil Scott Heron,
Gang Gang Dance,
Archie Shepp,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Fad Gadget,
Arthur Verocai,
Barclay James Harvest,
Japan,
Arcadia,
Aswad,
Althea and Donna,
Ludus,
Faust,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Second Layer,
Jacob Miller,
In Retrospect,
Inner City,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Tim Buckley,
The Standells,
Echospace,
Hardrive,
Symarip,
T.S.O.L.,
The Sonics,
The Doors,
Bob Dylan,
Procol Harum,
The Slits,
Half Japanese,
Fluxion,
Clear Light,
Roy Ayers,
Scientists,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Average White Band,
Bush Tetras,
Michelle Simonal,
Adolescents,
Ultra Naté,
Brass Construction, Brass Construction, Brass Construction, Brass Construction.
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.