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 Jamaica and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar 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 Intrusion to the jazz 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 Moss Icon. All the underground hits.
All the Swans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lee Hazlewood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fatback Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Derrick Morgan,
Jeru the Damaja,
the Normal,
a-ha,
Gerry Rafferty,
Grey Daturas,
Mr. Review,
Soft Cell,
the Human League,
Brand Nubian,
Lower 48,
Rapeman,
Technova,
Big Daddy Kane,
Tears for Fears,
Monks,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Cheater Slicks,
Hot Snakes,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Hashim,
The Mojo Men,
The Cowsills,
John Lydon,
Gichy Dan,
Neil Young,
the Slits,
Cymande,
Heaven 17,
Warsaw,
Goldenarms,
Max Romeo,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Malaria!,
Harry Pussy,
Gang of Four,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Associates,
The Sonics,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Fear,
Ice-T,
CMW,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
X-Ray Spex,
Livin' Joy,
Fat Boys,
Babytalk,
Ituana,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Blake Baxter,
Prince Buster,
Brass Construction,
The United States of America,
Alice Coltrane,
Kurtis Blow,
Fatback Band,
The Moleskins,
Junior Murvin,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Black Dice,
Man Eating Sloth,
Radiohead, Radiohead, Radiohead, Radiohead.
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.