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 Tuvalu and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe 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 Barclay James Harvest 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 It's A Beautiful Day. All the underground hits.
All The Grass Roots tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sad Lovers and Giants 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a theremin 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 mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David Axelrod,
Blancmange,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Sonics,
Eden Ahbez,
Crispian St. Peters,
Rakim,
Interpol,
The Durutti Column,
the Fania All-Stars,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Dennis Brown,
The Knickerbockers,
The Neon Judgement,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Ituana,
Frankie Knuckles,
Derrick Morgan,
Brick,
Mo-Dettes,
K-Klass,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Last Poets,
The Cramps,
Judy Mowatt,
Kool Moe Dee,
Marmalade,
Q and Not U,
Gang of Four,
Big Daddy Kane,
Bill Wells,
Fugazi,
Slick Rick,
Magma,
Mary Jane Girls,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Gories,
Danielle Patucci,
Cecil Taylor,
Bill Near,
Swans,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Outsiders,
Terrestrial Tones,
Subhumans,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
DJ Sneak,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Associates,
Lungfish,
Stetsasonic,
Pere Ubu,
Rosa Yemen,
Half Japanese,
Marine Girls,
Connie Case,
Jawbox,
Grey Daturas,
Fear,
Eric Dolphy,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Al Stewart, Al Stewart, Al Stewart, Al Stewart.
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.