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 Seychelles and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the sitar 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 Spoonie Gee to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Lonnie Liston Smith. All the underground hits.
All the Swans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Justin Hinds & The Dominoes 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a K-Klass record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Lungfish,
The Residents,
Joensuu 1685,
Pharoah Sanders,
Trumans Water,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Pole,
Supertramp,
Suicide,
Grandmaster Flash,
Dead Boys,
Hoover,
Can,
Donny Hathaway,
Idris Muhammad,
Masters at Work,
Slave,
Silicon Teens,
Babytalk,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Half Japanese,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Angels of Light,
Letta Mbulu,
Matthew Bourne,
Circle Jerks,
Marcia Griffiths,
The J.B.'s,
Cheater Slicks,
La Düsseldorf,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Gregory Isaacs,
World's Most,
Moss Icon,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Isaac Hayes,
Tres Demented,
Alphaville,
Terrestrial Tones,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Monks,
The Sonics,
The Doobie Brothers,
Matthew Halsall,
Heaven 17,
Lightning Bolt,
Fear,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Bang On A Can,
Avey Tare,
Peter & Gordon,
Rufus Thomas,
The Pretty Things,
The Invisible,
Jerry's Kids,
Ultimate Spinach,
Marmalade,
Clear Light,
The Red Krayola,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Fort Wilson Riot,
the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars.
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.