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 Malaysia and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the marimba 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 The Slackers to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Eli Mardock. All the underground hits.
All Hoover tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Art Ensemble Of Chicago record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 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 harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lyres,
Al Stewart,
Wolf Eyes,
The Fugs,
T.S.O.L.,
Howard Jones,
The Flesh Eaters,
James Chance & The Contortions,
World's Most,
Livin' Joy,
Terry Callier,
Throbbing Gristle,
Panda Bear,
Joy Division,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Kinks,
Alison Limerick,
The Seeds,
Connie Case,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Hot Snakes,
Scion,
Monolake,
Black Pus,
The Misunderstood,
Steve Hackett,
Suicide,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Gun Club,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Wasted Youth,
Peter and Kerry,
kango's stein massive,
Gong,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Warren Ellis,
Stereo Dub,
Sister Nancy,
cv313,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
One Last Wish,
Talk Talk,
Audionom,
Desert Stars,
Schoolly D,
The Knickerbockers,
Joey Negro,
Underground Resistance,
Man Eating Sloth,
Metal Thangz,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Basic Channel,
Warsaw,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Durutti Column,
June Days,
Marc Almond,
Crime,
H. Thieme,
Ossler,
The Pop Group, The Pop Group, The Pop Group, The Pop Group.
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.