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 the UAE and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Con Funk Shun to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Fluxion. All the underground hits.
All Outsiders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Angels of Light 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a rhodes 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 organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mighty Diamonds,
Bang On A Can,
Bobby Womack,
Juan Atkins,
Y Pants,
Prince Buster,
Robert Görl,
Fela Kuti,
The Divine Comedy,
Pagans,
The Last Poets,
Severed Heads,
Lower 48,
Suburban Knight,
Junior Murvin,
The Real Kids,
Rod Modell,
Toni Rubio,
Iggy Pop,
Bill Wells,
Pussy Galore,
Gang Starr,
Glambeats Corp.,
Tommy Roe,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Nik Kershaw,
Dawn Penn,
Bush Tetras,
Pere Ubu,
The Angels of Light,
Bobby Byrd,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Marvin Gaye,
Joey Negro,
Rekid,
Eden Ahbez,
Cameo,
Nils Olav,
The Barracudas,
Joe Finger,
The Sound,
Rapeman,
The Moody Blues,
Sugar Minott,
The Smoke,
Fugazi,
The Alarm Clocks,
Eurythmics,
Drive Like Jehu,
Siglo XX,
Todd Terry,
Delon & Dalcan,
Johnny Osbourne,
Ronan,
Porter Ricks,
Minutemen,
The Martian,
Lyres,
The Moleskins,
Stetsasonic,
Rosa Yemen,
Moby Grape,
Pantaleimon,
Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby.
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.