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 Djibouti and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Delhi.
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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
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 Crooked Eye to the electroclash 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 Inner City. All the underground hits.
All DJ Sneak tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sonics record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 spring reverb and an oboe 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 snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Wire,
Carl Craig,
The Cramps,
Moby Grape,
Dennis Brown,
Albert Ayler,
Barry Ungar,
Reagan Youth,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Television Personalities,
Bobby Byrd,
Basic Channel,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Eddi Front,
Donald Byrd,
Brothers Johnson,
Massinfluence,
The Knickerbockers,
Deadbeat,
Inner City,
Pere Ubu,
Gastr Del Sol,
Maleditus Sound,
Girls At Our Best!,
Von Mondo,
Stockholm Monsters,
Erykah Badu,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Detroit Cobras,
Yazoo,
Audionom,
Saccharine Trust,
Nik Kershaw,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Raincoats,
Bootsy Collins,
Fela Kuti,
Intrusion,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Dirtbombs,
Scan 7,
Bill Wells,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Radio Birdman,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Rekid,
Ronan,
Chris & Cosey,
Black Pus,
The Gladiators,
The Martian,
Qualms,
Con Funk Shun,
Eve St. Jones,
New York Dolls,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Ronnie Foster,
Agent Orange,
Sparks, Sparks, Sparks, Sparks.
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.