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 Austria and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Smoke to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Roy Ayers. All the underground hits.
All Khruangbin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a spring reverb 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 güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Durutti Column,
the Slits,
Babytalk,
Parry Music,
Minor Threat,
David McCallum,
The Mummies,
Bauhaus,
Jacob Miller,
Pharoah Sanders,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Cluster,
Colin Newman,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Oneida,
Slick Rick,
Pet Shop Boys,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Faraquet,
Bob Dylan,
The Smoke,
Arab on Radar,
The Raincoats,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Roy Ayers,
Black Flag,
Country Teasers,
The Alarm Clocks,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Selecter,
Warren Ellis,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Spoonie Gee,
Fad Gadget,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Stockholm Monsters,
Johnny Osbourne,
Joe Smooth,
Dennis Brown,
Matthew Bourne,
Essential Logic,
Ten City,
The Wake,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Neon Judgement,
Dawn Penn,
Mission of Burma,
Whodini,
FM Einheit,
Gang of Four,
The Gun Club,
Basic Channel,
Jimmy McGriff,
Audionom,
Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios.
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.