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 Suriname and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 Mumbai and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Fifty Foot Hose to the dance 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 Nation of Ulysses. All the underground hits.
All The American Breed tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barclay James Harvest record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a linndrum 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 harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Trojans,
Heaven 17,
the Swans,
Reagan Youth,
The Grass Roots,
X-Ray Spex,
Lyres,
Dorothy Ashby,
Joe Finger,
Subhumans,
Pet Shop Boys,
a-ha,
The Slackers,
Main Source,
Guru Guru,
June Days,
Camberwell Now,
Sex Pistols,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Television,
Masters at Work,
Flipper,
Sam Rivers,
Ultra Naté,
Ice-T,
The Zeros,
Danielle Patucci,
Fat Boys,
Smog,
Young Marble Giants,
Ralphi Rosario,
Pantytec,
Tim Buckley,
The Smiths,
Lungfish,
Von Mondo,
The Pop Group,
John Holt,
Skriet,
Brand Nubian,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Banda Bassotti,
Siglo XX,
DJ Style,
Jeru the Damaja,
Erasure,
Lakeside,
The Beau Brummels,
The Associates,
The Invisible,
The Standells,
U.S. Maple,
The J.B.'s,
Sonny Sharrock,
The United States of America,
Whodini,
Frankie Knuckles,
Dark Day,
Yellowson,
Stereo Dub,
the Normal, the Normal, the Normal, the Normal.
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.