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 Namibia and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Pretty Things to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band. All the underground hits.
All Cabaret Voltaire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Victims record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a marimba 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 marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Sugar Minott,
Fad Gadget,
The Moleskins,
T.S.O.L.,
Little Man,
Fat Boys,
Popol Vuh,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Junior Murvin,
ABBA,
Girls At Our Best!,
Sexual Harrassment,
KRS-One,
DJ Style,
The Durutti Column,
Eric Copeland,
Eric Dolphy,
Unwound,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Warren Ellis,
Stetsasonic,
Mantronix,
Terry Callier,
Johnny Osbourne,
Flipper,
Ash Ra Tempel,
June of 44,
Skarface,
Wire,
June Days,
The Angels of Light,
Henry Cow,
The Music Machine,
Anakelly,
Pierre Henry,
Slick Rick,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Au Pairs,
A Certain Ratio,
Man Eating Sloth,
Bluetip,
Frankie Knuckles,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Eddi Front,
Fugazi,
Jeff Mills,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Flash Fearless,
Bobby Womack,
Gang of Four,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Schoolly D,
Aural Exciters,
The Human League,
Zero Boys,
Banda Bassotti,
Public Enemy,
Agent Orange,
Unrelated Segments, Unrelated Segments, Unrelated Segments, Unrelated Segments.
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.