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 Monaco and from Paris.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Angry Samoans to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Last Poets. All the underground hits.
All Robert Wyatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Television 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a sitar 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 marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wolf Eyes,
The Raincoats,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Crooked Eye,
the Bar-Kays,
Main Source,
AZ,
The Misunderstood,
Gang Gang Dance,
Average White Band,
Joe Smooth,
B.T. Express,
Barry Ungar,
Lebanon Hanover,
Lindisfarne,
Cybotron,
The Cramps,
Blake Baxter,
Audionom,
Barbara Tucker,
Minny Pops,
Scrapy,
Charles Mingus,
E-Dancer,
Bizarre Inc.,
The New Christs,
The Barracudas,
Ice-T,
Robert Wyatt,
Man Parrish,
Jimmy McGriff,
U.S. Maple,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Martian,
Brass Construction,
Pierre Henry,
Pagans,
Pere Ubu,
Sonny Sharrock,
Schoolly D,
Kerri Chandler,
The Dirtbombs,
The Durutti Column,
Stetsasonic,
The United States of America,
The Toasters,
Tomorrow,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Fluxion,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Scientists,
Bootsy Collins,
Procol Harum,
Sam Rivers,
Rites of Spring,
Sixth Finger,
The Count Five,
Ronnie Foster,
Mandrill,
the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics.
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.