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 Iceland and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Amon Düül to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All Altered Images tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Letta Mbulu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro 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 organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cameo,
Siglo XX,
Scion,
Minnie Riperton,
Susan Cadogan,
Colin Newman,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
ABC,
Wire,
Bang On A Can,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Quando Quango,
the Normal,
The Trojans,
Amon Düül,
CMW,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Hardrive,
Crooked Eye,
Vainqueur,
Ronnie Foster,
Television,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Stooges,
Erykah Badu,
The Dirtbombs,
Sonny Sharrock,
the Soft Cell,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Amazonics,
Gong,
Bush Tetras,
The Skatalites,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Procol Harum,
Reagan Youth,
Rakim,
Gil Scott Heron,
Magma,
Smog,
Brass Construction,
Banda Bassotti,
Can,
Alice Coltrane,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Kinks,
The Leaves,
Nik Kershaw,
Faraquet,
Newcleus,
R.M.O.,
Warsaw,
Donny Hathaway,
Avey Tare,
Mo-Dettes,
Bizarre Inc.,
Eyeless In Gaza,
K-Klass,
Hoover,
Shoche,
Barry Ungar,
Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily.
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.