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 Brazil and from Portland.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the güiro 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 Slick Rick to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Gastr Del Sol. All the underground hits.
All La Düsseldorf tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Buzzcocks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet 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 guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slits,
Crime,
Don Cherry,
Throbbing Gristle,
Wolf Eyes,
Deepchord,
Nation of Ulysses,
Sam Rivers,
Junior Murvin,
The Cowsills,
Pagans,
The Names,
Bobby Sherman,
Howard Jones,
Max Romeo,
Fluxion,
Jeff Mills,
Silicon Teens,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Golliwogs,
Letta Mbulu,
The Shadows of Knight,
Saccharine Trust,
Moebius,
Pulsallama,
Index,
Cameo,
Reagan Youth,
Donny Hathaway,
Pharoah Sanders,
B.T. Express,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Trojans,
Judy Mowatt,
Davy DMX,
The Walker Brothers,
These Immortal Souls,
48th St. Collective,
John Foxx,
The Angels of Light,
the Slits,
Eurythmics,
Swell Maps,
Glenn Branca,
Brick,
The Cure,
Porter Ricks,
The Martian,
Sugar Minott,
Quantec,
Robert Wyatt,
Oneida,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Hot Snakes,
Tubeway Army,
The Saints,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Boogie Down Productions,
Zero Boys,
The Invisible,
Amon Düül,
Prince Buster,
Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell.
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.