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 Nicaragua and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 clarinet 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 Tears for Fears to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Fluxion. All the underground hits.
All The Music Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Wyatt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar 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 rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Remains,
Rhythm & Sound,
Porter Ricks,
Chris & Cosey,
Nils Olav,
Jimmy McGriff,
Desert Stars,
Roxy Music,
H. Thieme,
Lightning Bolt,
The Beau Brummels,
Outsiders,
Pet Shop Boys,
Rites of Spring,
Gang Gang Dance,
These Immortal Souls,
The Walker Brothers,
Magma,
Reuben Wilson,
Ken Boothe,
Parry Music,
Skriet,
Moss Icon,
Mark Hollis,
Oneida,
Joe Smooth,
The Fall,
Blancmange,
Jacques Brel,
Boredoms,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Talk Talk,
Graham Central Station,
Howard Jones,
The Dirtbombs,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Soul II Soul,
Lalann,
Hasil Adkins,
Chris Corsano,
Bronski Beat,
The Alarm Clocks,
Hardrive,
The J.B.'s,
Arcadia,
Pulsallama,
Intrusion,
Suburban Knight,
Soft Cell,
Slave,
Model 500,
Magazine,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Clear Light,
Joensuu 1685,
Lower 48,
Colin Newman,
Al Stewart,
Royal Trux,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Tommy Roe,
The Young Rascals,
Lonnie Liston Smith, Lonnie Liston Smith, Lonnie Liston Smith, Lonnie Liston Smith.
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.