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 Namibia and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
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 Y Pants to the rock 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 The Royal Family And The Poor. All the underground hits.
All Tommy Roe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jesper Dahlback record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 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 oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moleskins,
The Angels of Light,
Theoretical Girls,
The Zeros,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Glenn Branca,
Sugar Minott,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Techniques,
Tim Buckley,
The Stooges,
Howard Jones,
Scratch Acid,
The Blues Magoos,
T. Rex,
Kenny Larkin,
John Holt,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Scott Walker,
Mandrill,
The Saints,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Heaven 17,
Procol Harum,
Nas,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Carl Craig,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Television,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Red Krayola,
Albert Ayler,
Spoonie Gee,
Stiv Bators,
Dead Boys,
Barrington Levy,
Agent Orange,
Sun City Girls,
Soft Machine,
The Sonics,
Bobby Byrd,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Excepter,
Echospace,
Robert Hood,
Banda Bassotti,
The Real Kids,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Blancmange,
The Modern Lovers,
Jacob Miller,
Electric Prunes,
The Fugs,
Warren Ellis,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Sam Rivers,
Japan,
Iggy Pop,
The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies.
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.