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 Georgia and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Spokane.
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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Sly & The Family Stone to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Funkadelic. All the underground hits.
All Faust tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crooked Eye record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 harpsichord and a spring reverb 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 rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Hood,
Simply Red,
Country Teasers,
Cecil Taylor,
Dorothy Ashby,
Al Stewart,
Harpers Bizarre,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Grey Daturas,
Reagan Youth,
Marvin Gaye,
The Skatalites,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Kerri Chandler,
Barrington Levy,
Ludus,
Kayak,
Vainqueur,
New Age Steppers,
Hot Snakes,
The Cramps,
The Durutti Column,
Livin' Joy,
Tomorrow,
Lalo Schifrin,
Juan Atkins,
Dawn Penn,
Deepchord,
Fat Boys,
The Gladiators,
James White and The Blacks,
Charles Mingus,
Beasts of Bourbon,
In Retrospect,
Brick,
The Smiths,
Mary Jane Girls,
Gerry Rafferty,
David Bowie,
The Selecter,
Hasil Adkins,
Quadrant,
The Doobie Brothers,
Colin Newman,
Ornette Coleman,
the Soft Cell,
Crispian St. Peters,
Scan 7,
Robert Wyatt,
Thompson Twins,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Blake Baxter,
The Seeds,
Scott Walker,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Davy DMX,
Eric Dolphy,
Yusef Lateef,
Anakelly,
the Association,
La Düsseldorf,
Royal Trux,
Bill Wells,
Rakim, Rakim, Rakim, Rakim.
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.