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 Chad and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Liliput 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 Harmonia. All the underground hits.
All Soft Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rhythim Is Rhythim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 harpsichord and a marimba 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 mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ronnie Foster,
The Invisible,
New Age Steppers,
Oneida,
The Count Five,
Slave,
Andrew Hill,
Bobby Womack,
Bill Near,
Masters at Work,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Human League,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Names,
Can,
Electric Prunes,
Letta Mbulu,
OOIOO,
Yazoo,
Soft Machine,
Desert Stars,
Archie Shepp,
Crispy Ambulance,
Aswad,
Big Daddy Kane,
Aaron Thompson,
John Cale,
Quadrant,
Marine Girls,
Sam Rivers,
K-Klass,
Brothers Johnson,
The Seeds,
Iggy Pop,
The Evens,
E-Dancer,
The Grass Roots,
Thompson Twins,
The Misunderstood,
The Leaves,
DNA,
Minutemen,
The Pop Group,
Kaleidoscope,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Moleskins,
Brick,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Massinfluence,
Lower 48,
H. Thieme,
Marmalade,
The Fire Engines,
Suicide,
Kerrie Biddell,
the Bar-Kays,
Mad Mike,
Altered Images,
The Buckinghams,
Shuggie Otis,
Lindisfarne,
Johnny Clarke,
Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!.
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.