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 Algeria and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Dark Day to the funk 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 Minny Pops. All the underground hits.
All Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ajijia Myrayebe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Index record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gories,
DNA,
Youth Brigade,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Second Layer,
The Gun Club,
B.T. Express,
Rekid,
Scientists,
Talk Talk,
The Sonics,
Max Romeo,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Pulsallama,
Country Teasers,
Stiv Bators,
Ornette Coleman,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Durutti Column,
Camberwell Now,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Avey Tare,
The Five Americans,
Ponytail,
Todd Terry,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Remains,
L. Decosne,
Kerrie Biddell,
Urselle,
Eden Ahbez,
Cecil Taylor,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Howard Jones,
Lyres,
Bush Tetras,
Harry Pussy,
Royal Trux,
T. Rex,
John Coltrane,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Kevin Saunderson,
Roy Ayers,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Letta Mbulu,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Funky Four + One,
Ronan,
Delon & Dalcan,
Scott Walker,
Faraquet,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Blues Magoos,
Harmonia,
Negative Approach,
Maleditus Sound,
Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow.
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.