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 St Lucia and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Yusef Lateef to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 LL Cool J. All the underground hits.
All Suburban Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Excepter 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultimate Spinach record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ 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 Residents,
Drexciya,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Deakin,
Unrelated Segments,
The Blackbyrds,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Flesh Eaters,
the Association,
Yellowson,
Wasted Youth,
Average White Band,
Donny Hathaway,
Urselle,
Althea and Donna,
In Retrospect,
Skriet,
Bobby Sherman,
Colin Newman,
Sex Pistols,
The American Breed,
Rod Modell,
FM Einheit,
Lakeside,
Man Parrish,
Sällskapet,
Smog,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Drive Like Jehu,
Wally Richardson,
Joe Finger,
Young Marble Giants,
Judy Mowatt,
Blossom Toes,
Moss Icon,
Sonny Sharrock,
Tubeway Army,
Duran Duran,
Gang Green,
The Music Machine,
Procol Harum,
Soulsonic Force,
Kenny Larkin,
Masters at Work,
Byron Stingily,
Arab on Radar,
Delon & Dalcan,
Sixth Finger,
Sugar Minott,
Q65,
the Sonics,
The Angels of Light,
The Electric Prunes,
The Seeds,
Bauhaus,
Lindisfarne,
The Dirtbombs,
The Zeros,
Alton Ellis,
Altered Images,
Flamin' Groovies,
Kango’s Stein Massive, Kango’s Stein Massive, Kango’s Stein Massive, Kango’s Stein Massive.
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.