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 Serbia and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Philadelphia.
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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 LL Cool J to the disco 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 The Sound. All the underground hits.
All Wings tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eve St. Jones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 theremin and a guitar 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 sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cheater Slicks,
Brand Nubian,
Talk Talk,
Reuben Wilson,
The Detroit Cobras,
Livin' Joy,
Depeche Mode,
Crispy Ambulance,
Groovy Waters,
Audionom,
The Skatalites,
The Fall,
the Soft Cell,
Grandmaster Flash,
Robert Wyatt,
Grauzone,
Wally Richardson,
Jacob Miller,
Marcia Griffiths,
Dorothy Ashby,
Flamin' Groovies,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Hoover,
The Gap Band,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Lower 48,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Crooked Eye,
The Real Kids,
Basic Channel,
Soulsonic Force,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Pere Ubu,
Stetsasonic,
The Names,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Half Japanese,
Sight & Sound,
Cameo,
The Doors,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Lebanon Hanover,
Arthur Verocai,
Das Ding,
D'Angelo,
Donald Byrd,
World's Most,
Stockholm Monsters,
DJ Sneak,
The Associates,
The Gladiators,
Tubeway Army,
Technova,
F. McDonald,
X-Ray Spex,
Quadrant,
Curtis Mayfield,
Roxy Music,
Cybotron, Cybotron, Cybotron, Cybotron.
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.