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 Lesotho and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the 808 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 Supertramp to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All Warren Ellis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a chamberlin 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 clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moss Icon,
Pantaleimon,
Moby Grape,
Brothers Johnson,
Bang On A Can,
E-Dancer,
Rhythm & Sound,
Main Source,
Max Romeo,
Johnny Osbourne,
Faraquet,
Franke,
New York Dolls,
Smog,
Little Man,
Loose Ends,
Ten City,
Absolute Body Control,
Bluetip,
Tim Buckley,
Marshall Jefferson,
The American Breed,
Arcadia,
Oneida,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
World's Most,
Yazoo,
LL Cool J,
Lalo Schifrin,
Curtis Mayfield,
Aural Exciters,
The Litter,
Au Pairs,
Sound Behaviour,
Rites of Spring,
The Human League,
Bizarre Inc.,
Depeche Mode,
Swans,
Soft Cell,
Pole,
The Pretty Things,
Gerry Rafferty,
Wolf Eyes,
Silicon Teens,
Nick Fraelich,
Index,
Neil Young,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Standells,
Pere Ubu,
The Searchers,
Saccharine Trust,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Dave Gahan,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Los Fastidios,
the Fania All-Stars,
Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy.
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.