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 Cameroon and from Lagos.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin 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 Victims to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Blossom Toes. All the underground hits.
All The Buckinghams tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Underground Resistance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 marimba and a güiro 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 808 and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slits,
Audionom,
Rites of Spring,
Cybotron,
The Monks,
Rosa Yemen,
China Crisis,
John Holt,
Gabor Szabo,
Althea and Donna,
Derrick May,
Kerrie Biddell,
Gang of Four,
Crime,
Bauhaus,
Johnny Osbourne,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Spandau Ballet,
Tom Boy,
Nick Fraelich,
Gil Scott Heron,
Amon Düül II,
Faust,
Negative Approach,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Crispian St. Peters,
A Certain Ratio,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Underground Resistance,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Eurythmics,
Lindisfarne,
Infiniti,
Joy Division,
Ken Boothe,
The Detroit Cobras,
Mantronix,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Cowsills,
the Association,
Mary Jane Girls,
Lungfish,
Eve St. Jones,
Howard Jones,
This Heat,
Accadde A,
K-Klass,
OOIOO,
Scott Walker,
The Residents,
Echospace,
Gerry Rafferty,
Sandy B,
Robert Hood,
Barry Ungar,
Scratch Acid,
Drexciya,
Magazine,
Loose Ends,
Harmonia,
The Star Department,
Public Enemy,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Jacques Brel,
Ponytail, Ponytail, Ponytail, Ponytail.
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.