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 Senegal and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Soft Cell to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Depeche Mode. All the underground hits.
All Country Joe & The Fish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Hutcherson 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an organ 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 marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Bush Tetras,
Soulsonic Force,
Oblivians,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Monochrome Set,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Faust,
Fad Gadget,
Josef K,
The Raincoats,
Hasil Adkins,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Banda Bassotti,
Boogie Down Productions,
Grauzone,
Monks,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Fire Engines,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Minny Pops,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Tubeway Army,
David McCallum,
cv313,
Metal Thangz,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Tears for Fears,
Scott Walker,
David Axelrod,
The New Christs,
The Vogues,
Black Flag,
Barclay James Harvest,
Scientists,
Trumans Water,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Symarip,
The Martian,
Traffic Nightmare,
Popol Vuh,
Jesper Dahlback,
DJ Style,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Swell Maps,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Doors,
The Birthday Party,
The Techniques,
Crispy Ambulance,
Mission of Burma,
Adolescents,
The Divine Comedy,
The Sonics,
Agitation Free,
Bootsy Collins,
Mad Mike,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Young Rascals,
Pierre Henry,
Marmalade,
Main Source,
The Modern Lovers,
Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock.
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.