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 Mozambique and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the theremin 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 K-Klass to the dance 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 Prince Buster. All the underground hits.
All Bill Near tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Star Department record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 harpsichord 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 arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moby Grape,
Porter Ricks,
The Martian,
Lee Hazlewood,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Wolf Eyes,
Wally Richardson,
Pet Shop Boys,
Monolake,
CMW,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Idris Muhammad,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Grey Daturas,
Johnny Clarke,
the Bar-Kays,
Reagan Youth,
Half Japanese,
Banda Bassotti,
Main Source,
Minutemen,
MDC,
Pagans,
Gil Scott Heron,
Mantronix,
The Vogues,
Barrington Levy,
Neu!,
Swans,
Ornette Coleman,
X-Ray Spex,
Can,
the Sonics,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Warsaw,
The American Breed,
Letta Mbulu,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Fatback Band,
The Seeds,
Sparks,
Altered Images,
Bill Near,
Aswad,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Slick Rick,
The Young Rascals,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Lalann,
Chris Corsano,
Howard Jones,
Gastr Del Sol,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
a-ha,
Pole,
Black Pus,
Fugazi,
R.M.O.,
Stereo Dub,
Minor Threat,
Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler.
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.