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 Belize and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Ossler to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Zeros. All the underground hits.
All the Fania All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Art Ensemble Of Chicago record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an oboe 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 oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lower 48,
Moebius,
Sun Ra,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
New Age Steppers,
Bronski Beat,
Public Enemy,
Letta Mbulu,
Blossom Toes,
The Saints,
The Cure,
Gang Green,
Johnny Clarke,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Oblivians,
Sugar Minott,
The Human League,
Patti Smith,
New Order,
Matthew Bourne,
The Moleskins,
Gong,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Gichy Dan,
Janne Schatter,
Rapeman,
Talk Talk,
AZ,
Dawn Penn,
Chrome,
Tom Boy,
Camberwell Now,
Cymande,
Wasted Youth,
Suicide,
Fugazi,
Hashim,
Angry Samoans,
Funky Four + One,
Mr. Review,
The Busters,
Soul Sonic Force,
Excepter,
DJ Sneak,
David Axelrod,
The Fugs,
The American Breed,
Monks,
Easy Going,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Black Flag,
Franke,
The United States of America,
Nas,
Trumans Water,
Zapp,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier.
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.