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 Cape Verde and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Anthony Braxton to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Barclay James Harvest. All the underground hits.
All Be Bop Deluxe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fugs 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb 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 sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Durutti Column,
Eddi Front,
Shuggie Otis,
Stockholm Monsters,
Ronan,
Joensuu 1685,
Gang Green,
Little Man,
The Vogues,
Arcadia,
Connie Case,
Jacques Brel,
Andrew Hill,
Reagan Youth,
Funkadelic,
Technova,
Heaven 17,
Sun Ra,
Anakelly,
Los Fastidios,
Cymande,
DNA,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Aswad,
Bobby Womack,
Sandy B,
Barclay James Harvest,
Rosa Yemen,
Organ,
Steve Hackett,
Yellowson,
Babytalk,
Thompson Twins,
The Last Poets,
The Neon Judgement,
Sex Pistols,
The Toasters,
Lightning Bolt,
Brand Nubian,
ABC,
Mark Hollis,
Radiopuhelimet,
Drexciya,
Loose Ends,
The Fugs,
The Doobie Brothers,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Modern Lovers,
John Cale,
Pylon,
Ralphi Rosario,
Darondo,
The Monochrome Set,
Negative Approach,
Carl Craig,
The Names,
The Wake,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
K-Klass,
Whodini,
Radio Birdman,
New Age Steppers,
Electric Light Orchestra, Electric Light Orchestra, Electric Light Orchestra, Electric Light Orchestra.
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.