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 Nicaragua and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the theremin 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 Beasts of Bourbon to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Jacques Brel. All the underground hits.
All Interpol tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Divine Comedy 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a synthesizer 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 güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gerry Rafferty,
Warsaw,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Roger Hodgson,
Jeff Lynne,
T. Rex,
The Black Dice,
Wally Richardson,
Jacob Miller,
Faraquet,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Raincoats,
Country Teasers,
The Electric Prunes,
Eurythmics,
Johnny Clarke,
Black Flag,
Wings,
Charles Mingus,
Buzzcocks,
kango's stein massive,
Rekid,
Main Source,
Kurtis Blow,
Tears for Fears,
Half Japanese,
Television,
Black Bananas,
Funky Four + One,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
EPMD,
Franke,
Moebius,
Delon & Dalcan,
Desert Stars,
The Sound,
Cluster,
Nas,
K-Klass,
Livin' Joy,
Gang Gang Dance,
June Days,
Pere Ubu,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Ronan,
The Residents,
Sun Ra,
Amazonics,
Dave Gahan,
Frankie Knuckles,
Idris Muhammad,
Tomorrow,
Wolf Eyes,
Josef K,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Arthur Verocai,
Hashim,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Patti Smith,
The Barracudas,
Grauzone,
Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson.
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.