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 Paraguay and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Robert Hood to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 June of 44. All the underground hits.
All The Dirtbombs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arab on Radar record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 spring reverb and a harpsichord 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 linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Traffic Nightmare,
Subhumans,
Marc Almond,
Al Stewart,
Ituana,
Boredoms,
Pet Shop Boys,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Rufus Thomas,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Suburban Knight,
Rhythm & Sound,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Outsiders,
The Skatalites,
Ornette Coleman,
Soul II Soul,
Tommy Roe,
Y Pants,
The Detroit Cobras,
Simply Red,
The Moleskins,
Drexciya,
These Immortal Souls,
Roy Ayers,
Yaz,
The Index,
Tubeway Army,
Bluetip,
Gil Scott Heron,
Robert Hood,
Nas,
The Associates,
Alison Limerick,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Talk Talk,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Cameo,
Terrestrial Tones,
Blancmange,
Juan Atkins,
Jerry's Kids,
Amon Düül,
Gang Green,
Bobby Sherman,
Franke,
Mars,
Amazonics,
Fat Boys,
Donny Hathaway,
Charles Mingus,
Babytalk,
Guru Guru,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Japan,
The Move,
Faraquet,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band, The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band, The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band, The West Coast Pop Art Experimental 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.