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 Australia and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Justin Hinds & The Dominoes to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The Residents. All the underground hits.
All Drive Like Jehu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vainqueur 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a clarinet 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 organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Monks,
Bluetip,
Morten Harket,
Joy Division,
Cymande,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Scott Walker,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Joey Negro,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Spoonie Gee,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Index,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Donny Hathaway,
Severed Heads,
Gabor Szabo,
Kurtis Blow,
Charles Mingus,
The Alarm Clocks,
The American Breed,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Lalo Schifrin,
Lalann,
Ossler,
Brand Nubian,
Barclay James Harvest,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Pretty Things,
Darondo,
Blancmange,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Skatalites,
Crime,
Colin Newman,
Gichy Dan,
Sound Behaviour,
Sight & Sound,
World's Most,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Malaria!,
Sun Ra,
ABC,
H. Thieme,
Pylon,
ABBA,
The Gap Band,
Surgeon,
Sällskapet,
The Smoke,
Delon & Dalcan,
New Age Steppers,
Negative Approach,
Liliput,
The Beau Brummels,
Grey Daturas,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Names,
Maurizio,
Wolf Eyes,
The Knickerbockers,
Jacques Brel,
Average White Band, Average White Band, Average White Band, Average White Band.
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.