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 Uzbekistan and from Woodstock.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Lee Hazlewood. All the underground hits.
All The Leaves tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smiths record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a 808 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 güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lindisfarne,
The Smoke,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Martian,
The Last Poets,
Boredoms,
The Count Five,
The Kinks,
E-Dancer,
Black Bananas,
Public Image Ltd.,
Crispian St. Peters,
Fluxion,
Slave,
Deadbeat,
This Heat,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
John Cale,
Carl Craig,
Heaven 17,
Jawbox,
The Fugs,
Todd Rundgren,
Jandek,
Surgeon,
The Happenings,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Doobie Brothers,
Brick,
Saccharine Trust,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Standells,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Dorothy Ashby,
Brand Nubian,
Gang Gang Dance,
Swell Maps,
Amon Düül,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Black Dice,
Moebius,
The Residents,
8 Eyed Spy,
Lucky Dragons,
Inner City,
The Moleskins,
Marine Girls,
Matthew Halsall,
The Wake,
Hashim,
Fear,
The Dave Clark Five,
Pantytec,
Altered Images,
Donny Hathaway,
Blake Baxter,
Amazonics,
Main Source,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sun City Girls,
London Community Gospel Choir, London Community Gospel Choir, London Community Gospel Choir, London Community Gospel Choir.
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.