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 Kazakhstan and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the oboe 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers to the grunge 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 Marvin Gaye. All the underground hits.
All Inner City tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brass Construction 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ 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 marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Anthony Braxton,
Ice-T,
Bootsy Collins,
Marcia Griffiths,
Adolescents,
Oneida,
Pagans,
Pole,
Outsiders,
Skaos,
Bob Dylan,
Gil Scott Heron,
the Slits,
Sex Pistols,
Colin Newman,
Jawbox,
Dennis Brown,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
OOIOO,
MC5,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Altered Images,
Eli Mardock,
Avey Tare,
Television Personalities,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Surgeon,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Carl Craig,
Harry Pussy,
Nik Kershaw,
The Monochrome Set,
Pantaleimon,
The Grass Roots,
One Last Wish,
The Blues Magoos,
The Neon Judgement,
Hot Snakes,
Cheater Slicks,
Guru Guru,
Matthew Bourne,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Rhythm & Sound,
Wolf Eyes,
Goldenarms,
Niagra,
EPMD,
The Move,
Soft Machine,
Pylon,
The Blackbyrds,
Soul Sonic Force,
Todd Rundgren,
Hoover,
The Gories,
James White and The Blacks,
Organ,
The Motions,
Funkadelic,
Glenn Branca,
Mantronix,
Howard Jones, Howard Jones, Howard Jones, Howard Jones.
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.