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 Sierra Leone and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Aaron Thompson to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The United States of America. All the underground hits.
All The Beau Brummels tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pulsallama 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a mellotron 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 marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chris & Cosey,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
JFA,
The Skatalites,
Glenn Branca,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Lindisfarne,
Porter Ricks,
Frankie Knuckles,
A Certain Ratio,
Lebanon Hanover,
Q65,
Tres Demented,
Iggy Pop,
Lucky Dragons,
The Saints,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Crime,
Andrew Hill,
Ituana,
a-ha,
Boz Scaggs,
The Black Dice,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Wake,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Fugazi,
Black Pus,
Essential Logic,
Pole,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
H. Thieme,
The United States of America,
Terry Callier,
the Fania All-Stars,
Girls At Our Best!,
Lou Reed,
Massinfluence,
Susan Cadogan,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Thee Headcoats,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Mojo Men,
Sonic Youth,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Names,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Faraquet,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Symarip,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Harmonia,
The Residents,
Loose Ends,
Section 25,
Tom Boy,
Duran Duran,
48th St. Collective,
Joey Negro,
Brick, Brick, Brick, Brick.
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.