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 Vietnam and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Sad Lovers and Giants to the jazz 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 Unrelated Segments. All the underground hits.
All Lakeside tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Adolescents record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ken Boothe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pylon,
Sonic Youth,
Sixth Finger,
Suicide,
The Fuzztones,
Radiopuhelimet,
Tom Boy,
Max Romeo,
Letta Mbulu,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Graham Central Station,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Ten City,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Modern Lovers,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Human League,
Susan Cadogan,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Pulsallama,
The Blackbyrds,
the Slits,
Rosa Yemen,
The Shadows of Knight,
Joey Negro,
Joensuu 1685,
The Gun Club,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
China Crisis,
Harry Pussy,
Sam Rivers,
the Association,
Archie Shepp,
Alphaville,
Trumans Water,
Piero Umiliani,
Kerrie Biddell,
B.T. Express,
Lalo Schifrin,
Skarface,
L. Decosne,
Mad Mike,
Barrington Levy,
Marine Girls,
Rakim,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Doobie Brothers,
Freddie Wadling,
Malaria!,
Q and Not U,
Ludus,
John Cale,
Kenny Larkin,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Doors,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
the Bar-Kays,
The Fire Engines,
The Dead C,
Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron.
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.