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 Burundi and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Deakin. All the underground hits.
All Banda Bassotti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Agent Orange 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer 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 theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Liliput,
Cluster,
The Dead C,
R.M.O.,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Don Cherry,
Godley & Creme,
Boredoms,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Pierre Henry,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Minny Pops,
The Count Five,
The Associates,
Vainqueur,
Bootsy Collins,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Derrick Morgan,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Faraquet,
Symarip,
Jeru the Damaja,
Crispy Ambulance,
Grey Daturas,
Q65,
Howard Jones,
Peter & Gordon,
Mark Hollis,
Ultra Naté,
Judy Mowatt,
Index,
The Real Kids,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
KRS-One,
Laurel Aitken,
Rites of Spring,
Cheater Slicks,
Connie Case,
The Vogues,
Toni Rubio,
Kenny Larkin,
This Heat,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Delta 5,
Lou Reed,
Nils Olav,
The Cure,
Man Parrish,
Fad Gadget,
Electric Prunes,
Kaleidoscope,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Janne Schatter,
the Sonics,
Mary Jane Girls,
Q and Not U,
Susan Cadogan,
Marmalade,
Throbbing Gristle,
Kerri Chandler,
The Residents,
Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants.
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.