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 Singapore and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 John Cale to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All The Peanut Butter Conspiracy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kings Of Tomorrow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet 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 clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agent Orange,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Sex Pistols,
Ornette Coleman,
David McCallum,
Sandy B,
Roy Ayers,
Susan Cadogan,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
World's Most,
The Alarm Clocks,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Aaron Thompson,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Bizarre Inc.,
Harry Pussy,
Negative Approach,
X-101,
Lindisfarne,
Radio Birdman,
Unrelated Segments,
Minutemen,
Junior Murvin,
Lyres,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Accadde A,
Skaos,
Scrapy,
Spoonie Gee,
Yellowson,
Buzzcocks,
Roxette,
Dennis Brown,
Skriet,
Nation of Ulysses,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Eric B and Rakim,
Sonic Youth,
Kas Product,
Outsiders,
Shuggie Otis,
Depeche Mode,
Chris & Cosey,
Joe Finger,
EPMD,
The Evens,
The Slackers,
Dawn Penn,
Rakim,
Duran Duran,
The Saints,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Blake Baxter,
The Doobie Brothers,
Basic Channel,
The Monks,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks.
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.