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 Malta and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the theremin 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 Cheater Slicks to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 It's A Beautiful Day. All the underground hits.
All Interpol tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bush Tetras record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a snare 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 snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Foxx,
Nas,
Mr. Review,
Reuben Wilson,
Quando Quango,
Monks,
Audionom,
Gabor Szabo,
The New Christs,
Lalann,
T. Rex,
Bobby Womack,
Theoretical Girls,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Oneida,
Iggy Pop,
Ornette Coleman,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Pharoah Sanders,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Kinks,
Bizarre Inc.,
Monolake,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
EPMD,
The Offenders,
Icehouse,
Robert Hood,
Marshall Jefferson,
Accadde A,
Masters at Work,
Chrome,
Lindisfarne,
Los Fastidios,
Japan,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Beau Brummels,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Brothers Johnson,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Pretty Things,
ABBA,
Arcadia,
H. Thieme,
Basic Channel,
Whodini,
Interpol,
Goldenarms,
Brass Construction,
Nils Olav,
Qualms,
The Gories,
Nico,
Cal Tjader,
John Cale,
Jeff Lynne,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Nirvana,
Second Layer,
New Order,
Cybotron, Cybotron, Cybotron, Cybotron.
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.