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 Suriname and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Scientists to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All Blossom Toes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fort Wilson Riot record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron 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 chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fad Gadget,
The Stooges,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Man Eating Sloth,
Babytalk,
E-Dancer,
Organ,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
H. Thieme,
Tears for Fears,
Ronan,
Colin Newman,
Rosa Yemen,
Goldenarms,
Slick Rick,
Dorothy Ashby,
Arthur Verocai,
Public Enemy,
Q and Not U,
Joe Smooth,
Idris Muhammad,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Das Ding,
ABC,
Glambeats Corp.,
Tomorrow,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Seeds,
Soul Sonic Force,
Fear,
Panda Bear,
Sun City Girls,
Deadbeat,
The Fire Engines,
Thompson Twins,
Soft Cell,
Al Stewart,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Supertramp,
Fort Wilson Riot,
June of 44,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Hashim,
Suburban Knight,
Altered Images,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Laurel Aitken,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Kool Moe Dee,
Eve St. Jones,
FM Einheit,
Sonic Youth,
DJ Sneak,
Eric B and Rakim,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Chrome,
the Association,
Cluster,
Mandrill,
Grandmaster Flash,
Zapp,
Larry & the Blue Notes, Larry & the Blue Notes, Larry & the Blue Notes, Larry & the Blue Notes.
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.