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 Estonia and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 snare 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 Glambeats Corp. to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Terry Callier. All the underground hits.
All Little Man tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kings Of Tomorrow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a spring reverb 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 marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Laurel Aitken,
Oneida,
The Remains,
Kenny Larkin,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Glenn Branca,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Lalann,
Crispy Ambulance,
Japan,
Eric Dolphy,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Lightning Bolt,
Jeff Mills,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Reuben Wilson,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Jesper Dahlback,
Mad Mike,
Moss Icon,
The Searchers,
Fugazi,
The Cramps,
The Black Dice,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Soul Sonic Force,
Public Image Ltd.,
Sonny Sharrock,
Procol Harum,
Skarface,
a-ha,
Ronan,
Sun Ra,
Michelle Simonal,
Todd Rundgren,
Boogie Down Productions,
Unwound,
Scrapy,
Pere Ubu,
Skriet,
Siglo XX,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Mummies,
The Misunderstood,
Pagans,
Girls At Our Best!,
Aural Exciters,
Nik Kershaw,
Saccharine Trust,
The Fugs,
Cymande,
Curtis Mayfield,
Essential Logic,
The Human League,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Easy Going,
The J.B.'s,
Andrew Hill,
Interpol, Interpol, Interpol, Interpol.
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.