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 Papua New Guinea and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
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 Wyatt to the rock 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 Graham Central Station. All the underground hits.
All The Grass Roots tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chrome 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a synthesizer 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 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
F. McDonald,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
the Human League,
Leonard Cohen,
Cybotron,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Lucky Dragons,
Andrew Hill,
Harry Pussy,
Scan 7,
ABBA,
Minnie Riperton,
Moss Icon,
Jandek,
Donny Hathaway,
Amon Düül II,
Thompson Twins,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Soft Cell,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Matthew Bourne,
Todd Terry,
Porter Ricks,
Rites of Spring,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Toasters,
Inner City,
Liliput,
Danielle Patucci,
Con Funk Shun,
Bob Dylan,
A Certain Ratio,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Minutemen,
Sonny Sharrock,
Susan Cadogan,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Vainqueur,
Joy Division,
Frankie Knuckles,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Agitation Free,
Darondo,
Scrapy,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Nas,
The Flesh Eaters,
Roger Hodgson,
The Raincoats,
The Buckinghams,
The Doobie Brothers,
Essential Logic,
Gregory Isaacs,
Lightning Bolt,
The Move,
Swell Maps,
Pet Shop Boys,
Anakelly,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Davy DMX,
Jawbox,
Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans.
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.