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 Sudan and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 Manchester and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 the Normal to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs. All the underground hits.
All Dorothy Ashby tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Monks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 chamberlin and a synthesizer 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 snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Matthew Bourne,
Bob Dylan,
the Slits,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Idris Muhammad,
Sun Ra,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Technova,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Vladislav Delay,
Delon & Dalcan,
Suburban Knight,
Rod Modell,
Donny Hathaway,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Marcia Griffiths,
Minutemen,
Iggy Pop,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
New York Dolls,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Count Five,
Spandau Ballet,
The Moody Blues,
Davy DMX,
Essential Logic,
Lee Hazlewood,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Unrelated Segments,
Unwound,
Janne Schatter,
Robert Wyatt,
X-101,
Glambeats Corp.,
Crispy Ambulance,
Icehouse,
The Young Rascals,
The Mummies,
Echospace,
Faust,
Gang Green,
Tim Buckley,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Symarip,
Man Eating Sloth,
Drexciya,
Wolf Eyes,
Tubeway Army,
Fatback Band,
Arthur Verocai,
The Zeros,
Sun City Girls,
Marc Almond,
Aloha Tigers,
Mars,
Brass Construction,
Marshall Jefferson,
June Days, June Days, June Days, June Days.
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.