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 Cuba and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Arab on Radar to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Jandek. All the underground hits.
All Jimmy McGriff tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fear record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 sitar and an organ 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 oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flipper,
The Slits,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Pere Ubu,
kango's stein massive,
Blancmange,
Niagra,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Bobby Byrd,
Matthew Bourne,
Duran Duran,
Wally Richardson,
ABBA,
Soul Sonic Force,
Camouflage,
Parry Music,
Lou Reed,
Kayak,
The Techniques,
Jimmy McGriff,
Ultra Naté,
Steve Hackett,
David Axelrod,
Gregory Isaacs,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Anthony Braxton,
The Dead C,
Von Mondo,
Cecil Taylor,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Last Poets,
Sun Ra,
Terry Callier,
Trumans Water,
The Associates,
Rekid,
Whodini,
Marine Girls,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Iggy Pop,
Bill Near,
Erykah Badu,
Roxette,
Visage,
Rosa Yemen,
The Durutti Column,
Make Up,
Bush Tetras,
World's Most,
The Sonics,
Susan Cadogan,
Mandrill,
H. Thieme,
Reagan Youth,
Kevin Saunderson,
Gerry Rafferty,
Groovy Waters,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Human League,
Bad Manners,
Minutemen,
The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible.
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.