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 Gambia and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 mellotron 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 Porter Ricks to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Janne Schatter. All the underground hits.
All Second Layer tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Music Machine 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb 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 rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Gang Dance,
JFA,
Drexciya,
Joe Finger,
DNA,
The Shadows of Knight,
T.S.O.L.,
Wally Richardson,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Cybotron,
Porter Ricks,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Rosa Yemen,
Khruangbin,
Half Japanese,
The Searchers,
Connie Case,
Man Parrish,
Ohio Players,
Ice-T,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Josef K,
Bang On A Can,
Anakelly,
The Sound,
Mr. Review,
The Selecter,
The Leaves,
Man Eating Sloth,
Chrome,
Arab on Radar,
Byron Stingily,
The Fire Engines,
Sparks,
Funky Four + One,
Derrick May,
Lakeside,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Bronski Beat,
Jacob Miller,
10cc,
Erasure,
Eric Copeland,
Sexual Harrassment,
Youth Brigade,
the Normal,
The Dave Clark Five,
Marvin Gaye,
Amon Düül II,
Peter and Kerry,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Letta Mbulu,
H. Thieme,
The Dead C,
Idris Muhammad,
Al Stewart,
Donald Byrd,
Mo-Dettes,
K-Klass,
UT,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band.
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.