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 Bahamas and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Crooked Eye to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Brothers Johnson. All the underground hits.
All Al Stewart tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Severed Heads 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar 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 synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Charles Mingus,
Terrestrial Tones,
June of 44,
The Fugs,
Camberwell Now,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Pierre Henry,
Goldenarms,
The Sound,
Ken Boothe,
Davy DMX,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Names,
Section 25,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Litter,
Lower 48,
Niagra,
Barry Ungar,
Talk Talk,
JFA,
T.S.O.L.,
Mr. Review,
Joensuu 1685,
Schoolly D,
Stetsasonic,
Bizarre Inc.,
Rosa Yemen,
Kerri Chandler,
Livin' Joy,
The Velvet Underground,
Stockholm Monsters,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Marvin Gaye,
Subhumans,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Misunderstood,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Graham Central Station,
Tom Boy,
Connie Case,
The Moleskins,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Icehouse,
Gong,
Mark Hollis,
Cecil Taylor,
Gang Gang Dance,
Visage,
Smog,
Tim Buckley,
Sparks,
Shoche,
The Angels of Light,
Lalann,
The Monochrome Set,
Little Man,
Wire,
Liliput,
Unwound, Unwound, Unwound, Unwound.
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.