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 Israel and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Happenings to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Black Moon. All the underground hits.
All The Barracudas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pagans 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a chamberlin 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 chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Susan Cadogan,
Skriet,
H. Thieme,
Barrington Levy,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Vogues,
Lakeside,
Soft Machine,
The Litter,
Ludus,
Ice-T,
Wally Richardson,
Smog,
the Swans,
Excepter,
The Shadows of Knight,
Quadrant,
Monolake,
Fat Boys,
Fela Kuti,
Blancmange,
Blossom Toes,
Rakim,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Flipper,
Eden Ahbez,
Television Personalities,
Index,
Half Japanese,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Tears for Fears,
Babytalk,
Byron Stingily,
Girls At Our Best!,
Brothers Johnson,
The Remains,
Darondo,
the Bar-Kays,
Groovy Waters,
Cybotron,
Traffic Nightmare,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Mission of Burma,
Rites of Spring,
Barbara Tucker,
Ohio Players,
Gabor Szabo,
Soul Sonic Force,
John Lydon,
Lightning Bolt,
Minnie Riperton,
Franke,
Yazoo,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Lee Hazlewood,
OOIOO,
Chris & Cosey,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Fall, The Fall, The Fall, The Fall.
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.