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 Argentina and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Sparks to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Camberwell Now. All the underground hits.
All The Pretty Things tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sonic Youth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Index record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe 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 Raincoats,
Soul Sonic Force,
Q and Not U,
Sandy B,
Agitation Free,
Iggy Pop,
Quando Quango,
Boredoms,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Red Krayola,
Ken Boothe,
Swell Maps,
The Moleskins,
the Association,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Moby Grape,
U.S. Maple,
Faraquet,
The Kinks,
The Alarm Clocks,
Babytalk,
Fear,
Andrew Hill,
Hardrive,
Amon Düül,
Simply Red,
Gang Green,
Liliput,
Bobby Byrd,
Scratch Acid,
Deakin,
Althea and Donna,
Wally Richardson,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Magazine,
The Buckinghams,
Mantronix,
Nico,
John Coltrane,
Barbara Tucker,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Scrapy,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
MC5,
The Slits,
Gong,
Grey Daturas,
Thompson Twins,
Al Stewart,
Bauhaus,
Morten Harket,
Don Cherry,
Gang Starr,
The J.B.'s,
Kool Moe Dee,
Gerry Rafferty,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Seeds,
Talk Talk,
Severed Heads,
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.