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 Lesotho and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Black Pus 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 B.T. Express. All the underground hits.
All Malaria! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stetsasonic 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a güiro 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 arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Davy DMX,
Juan Atkins,
This Heat,
Alice Coltrane,
Gang Starr,
MC5,
Scrapy,
Donald Byrd,
China Crisis,
Man Eating Sloth,
ABC,
Mad Mike,
Infiniti,
the Human League,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Black Moon,
Camouflage,
Malaria!,
Soft Cell,
La Düsseldorf,
Henry Cow,
Wire,
Cameo,
Idris Muhammad,
Roy Ayers,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Boogie Down Productions,
Half Japanese,
MDC,
Al Stewart,
The Selecter,
Marc Almond,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Pharoah Sanders,
B.T. Express,
Inner City,
Pole,
Erykah Badu,
the Normal,
Echospace,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Ultra Naté,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Robert Wyatt,
Maleditus Sound,
New York Dolls,
Alton Ellis,
Dark Day,
The Blues Magoos,
Cheater Slicks,
Royal Trux,
Anthony Braxton,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Velvet Underground,
Avey Tare,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids.
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.