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 Slovakia and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Names to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All Crash Course in Science tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Groovy Waters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a synthesizer 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 theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Index,
Bang On A Can,
June Days,
Max Romeo,
Terry Callier,
Nik Kershaw,
Dennis Brown,
Electric Prunes,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Beau Brummels,
Unwound,
The Cure,
Massinfluence,
Parry Music,
Fatback Band,
Excepter,
The Sound,
Yellowson,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Sex Pistols,
Donny Hathaway,
Mission of Burma,
the Association,
The Young Rascals,
Stockholm Monsters,
Popol Vuh,
Man Parrish,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Eric Dolphy,
Don Cherry,
Masters at Work,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Talk Talk,
Wings,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Tropical Tobacco,
Siglo XX,
Swell Maps,
Drexciya,
Infiniti,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Motions,
Roy Ayers,
Eli Mardock,
The Doors,
Morten Harket,
Mantronix,
Model 500,
The Skatalites,
Bob Dylan,
Procol Harum,
The Blues Magoos,
June of 44,
The Moody Blues,
Easy Going,
Johnny Osbourne,
Main Source,
Bobby Womack,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu.
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.