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 Mozambique and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 La Düsseldorf to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Sly & The Family Stone. All the underground hits.
All The Cowsills tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Strawberry Alarm Clock record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb 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 oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Wake,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Shuggie Otis,
Ice-T,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Stooges,
The Monochrome Set,
Sight & Sound,
Mr. Review,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Radio Birdman,
Bill Wells,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Smiths,
Johnny Osbourne,
Gabor Szabo,
Johnny Clarke,
Amon Düül II,
Dennis Brown,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Yellowson,
Lightning Bolt,
Nas,
The Cramps,
Deepchord,
Alphaville,
Saccharine Trust,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Neu!,
The Neon Judgement,
Byron Stingily,
Simply Red,
Theoretical Girls,
Ohio Players,
Eric Dolphy,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Camberwell Now,
The Walker Brothers,
Letta Mbulu,
Oblivians,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Brothers Johnson,
Lee Hazlewood,
Pole,
Clear Light,
The Black Dice,
Brick,
The Red Krayola,
Morten Harket,
The Five Americans,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Matthew Halsall,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Durutti Column,
The Last Poets,
Albert Ayler,
the Fania All-Stars,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Dawn Penn,
Joe Smooth,
The Standells, The Standells, The Standells, The Standells.
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.