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 Vanuatu and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Seeds to the disco 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 The Star Department. All the underground hits.
All Reuben Wilson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aural Exciters 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blake Baxter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cluster,
the Swans,
Little Man,
Marmalade,
Moebius,
Au Pairs,
The Monochrome Set,
The Alarm Clocks,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Index,
Eli Mardock,
U.S. Maple,
Skaos,
Soulsonic Force,
The Martian,
Black Moon,
Johnny Osbourne,
Radiopuhelimet,
Lyres,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Los Fastidios,
Ultra Naté,
X-101,
Davy DMX,
Ponytail,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Nils Olav,
Marine Girls,
Gong,
Bill Wells,
Intrusion,
The Doors,
Bush Tetras,
Pere Ubu,
Ultimate Spinach,
June of 44,
Gregory Isaacs,
Delta 5,
Arthur Verocai,
Neu!,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Mr. Review,
Crooked Eye,
AZ,
Blake Baxter,
Grauzone,
Section 25,
DNA,
Ronan,
Lungfish,
Chris & Cosey,
Eden Ahbez,
Donny Hathaway,
Gastr Del Sol,
Whodini,
The Names,
Funky Four + One,
Maurizio,
A Certain Ratio,
Make Up, Make Up, Make Up, Make Up.
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.