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 Swaziland and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Half Japanese to the techno 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 Dennis Brown. All the underground hits.
All The Pop Group tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mantronix 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet 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 synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Flesh Eaters,
The Searchers,
Newcleus,
Deepchord,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Ituana,
Desert Stars,
The Sound,
Niagra,
Infiniti,
Scan 7,
The Gories,
The Slits,
Arthur Verocai,
Organ,
Throbbing Gristle,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Jacques Brel,
Can,
Grandmaster Flash,
Hoover,
Spandau Ballet,
Donny Hathaway,
The Star Department,
Das Ding,
48th St. Collective,
The Count Five,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Tears for Fears,
T.S.O.L.,
Ice-T,
Black Sheep,
Janne Schatter,
Mandrill,
CMW,
In Retrospect,
Hot Snakes,
Sam Rivers,
Pierre Henry,
Jesper Dahlback,
Section 25,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Flamin' Groovies,
Motorama,
Erykah Badu,
Lungfish,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Johnny Osbourne,
Matthew Halsall,
Black Bananas,
The Music Machine,
The Leaves,
Pagans,
The Index,
Erasure,
Susan Cadogan,
Harry Pussy,
Ultra Naté,
Barclay James Harvest,
Aloha Tigers,
Y Pants,
The Cure,
Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans.
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.