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 Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Parry Music to the dance 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 Soul Sonic Force. All the underground hits.
All MDC tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quadrant record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a mellotron 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 güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-101,
DNA,
Sam Rivers,
Colin Newman,
the Germs,
Urselle,
Aloha Tigers,
Inner City,
Bill Near,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Five Americans,
Scott Walker,
Reagan Youth,
Brand Nubian,
Whodini,
F. McDonald,
Johnny Clarke,
Mars,
Hardrive,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Fatback Band,
The Mojo Men,
Lalann,
Cybotron,
Sarah Menescal,
The Beau Brummels,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Invisible,
Pussy Galore,
Gabor Szabo,
The Angels of Light,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Half Japanese,
Audionom,
The Cowsills,
the Slits,
Shuggie Otis,
The Star Department,
Soul II Soul,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Aaron Thompson,
Simply Red,
Althea and Donna,
The Names,
Youth Brigade,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Searchers,
A Certain Ratio,
Mark Hollis,
Lower 48,
New Age Steppers,
Flash Fearless,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Divine Comedy,
Rotary Connection,
Deakin,
The Busters,
The Fire Engines,
Model 500,
Interpol,
Leonard Cohen,
The Trojans,
Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget.
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.