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 Mauritania and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 The Litter to the rap 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 Mars. All the underground hits.
All Unrelated Segments tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispy Ambulance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 808 and a güiro 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 snare and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thee Headcoats,
Goldenarms,
KRS-One,
the Soft Cell,
The Wake,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Junior Murvin,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Doobie Brothers,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Barry Ungar,
Crash Course in Science,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Marcia Griffiths,
Ralphi Rosario,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Lower 48,
Mantronix,
Boredoms,
Rekid,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
FM Einheit,
Eve St. Jones,
Joey Negro,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Move,
Gabor Szabo,
Grey Daturas,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Flash Fearless,
Ken Boothe,
Mary Jane Girls,
Lou Reed,
Electric Prunes,
Cecil Taylor,
Idris Muhammad,
Fad Gadget,
Supertramp,
8 Eyed Spy,
John Coltrane,
The Buckinghams,
Jimmy McGriff,
Chrome,
Siglo XX,
Soft Machine,
Tomorrow,
Funky Four + One,
Kaleidoscope,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
June Days,
Fatback Band,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Hot Snakes,
Wasted Youth,
Terry Callier,
Sixth Finger,
Man Eating Sloth,
Yellowson,
Kayak,
The Dirtbombs,
Accadde A,
This Heat,
New York Dolls, New York Dolls, New York Dolls, New York Dolls.
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.