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 Tuvalu and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Salvador.
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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Steve Hackett to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch. All the underground hits.
All Fad Gadget tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Hood 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
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 guitar and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T.S.O.L.,
Wolf Eyes,
Soft Machine,
Wings,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Matthew Halsall,
Nik Kershaw,
Moss Icon,
Sparks,
Frankie Knuckles,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Monks,
kango's stein massive,
Black Moon,
Barbara Tucker,
Alice Coltrane,
Stereo Dub,
Agitation Free,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Marvin Gaye,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Black Pus,
The Stooges,
Clear Light,
Slave,
Howard Jones,
Mantronix,
New Order,
Pole,
Rosa Yemen,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Duran Duran,
Drive Like Jehu,
Shuggie Otis,
Nation of Ulysses,
Severed Heads,
Sly & The Family Stone,
the Soft Cell,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Jimmy McGriff,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Brothers Johnson,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Blackbyrds,
Rotary Connection,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Bush Tetras,
James White and The Blacks,
Public Enemy,
Judy Mowatt,
Inner City,
Wally Richardson,
Deepchord,
The Selecter,
Rapeman,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Max Romeo,
The Blues Magoos,
Mad Mike,
The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones.
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.