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 Iceland and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All Frankie Knuckles tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alison Limerick 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a güiro 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 rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Swell Maps,
Sixth Finger,
Danielle Patucci,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Reagan Youth,
Pere Ubu,
Ultra Naté,
Matthew Halsall,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Desert Stars,
Wally Richardson,
The Human League,
Funky Four + One,
The Moleskins,
Oblivians,
Gerry Rafferty,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Pop Group,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Gil Scott Heron,
Fugazi,
Scott Walker,
Theoretical Girls,
The Monks,
Warsaw,
Bronski Beat,
The Fuzztones,
Man Parrish,
Section 25,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Sonny Sharrock,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
L. Decosne,
Eric B and Rakim,
Fatback Band,
Tim Buckley,
Minutemen,
Basic Channel,
D'Angelo,
Eve St. Jones,
Neil Young,
The Divine Comedy,
Nation of Ulysses,
Kenny Larkin,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Tropical Tobacco,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
the Slits,
Bang On A Can,
Sister Nancy,
The Young Rascals,
Accadde A,
Reuben Wilson,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Misunderstood,
Motorama,
Barry Ungar,
Camouflage,
The J.B.'s,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Barrington Levy,
Leonard Cohen,
Niagra,
Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox.
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.