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 Venezuela and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan to the crunk 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 Blake Baxter. All the underground hits.
All H. Thieme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Soft Cell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum 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 harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Supertramp,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Lebanon Hanover,
Roy Ayers,
Deadbeat,
AZ,
The Martian,
Ken Boothe,
Flash Fearless,
Bobby Womack,
Ultra Naté,
Aloha Tigers,
Negative Approach,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Zeros,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Trumans Water,
The Kinks,
Eric B and Rakim,
Blancmange,
Public Enemy,
Tres Demented,
Fatback Band,
48th St. Collective,
Saccharine Trust,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Invisible,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
John Holt,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
John Lydon,
Ossler,
The American Breed,
Chrome,
Freddie Wadling,
Ice-T,
Pierre Henry,
Urselle,
Rufus Thomas,
UT,
Talk Talk,
Kevin Saunderson,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Detroit Cobras,
D'Angelo,
Flamin' Groovies,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Jandek,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Modern Lovers,
The Red Krayola,
Cluster,
Ultravox,
Sonic Youth,
Kerri Chandler,
Gang Starr,
Circle Jerks,
Banda Bassotti,
Make Up,
Joe Smooth,
Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken.
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.