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 Burundi and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Glasgow.
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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the marimba 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 The Doors to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Sexual Harrassment. All the underground hits.
All Hot Snakes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bush Tetras record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 guitar and an arpeggiator 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 arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Blues Magoos,
Young Marble Giants,
The Dave Clark Five,
Althea and Donna,
The Young Rascals,
The Durutti Column,
Mary Jane Girls,
Susan Cadogan,
T.S.O.L.,
Throbbing Gristle,
Quadrant,
Oneida,
Donald Byrd,
Piero Umiliani,
The Monochrome Set,
Silicon Teens,
Youth Brigade,
China Crisis,
Peter and Kerry,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Henry Cow,
Kerrie Biddell,
Camouflage,
Blossom Toes,
Accadde A,
Eric B and Rakim,
Saccharine Trust,
The United States of America,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Lakeside,
Pere Ubu,
The Vogues,
Quando Quango,
Cal Tjader,
June Days,
Average White Band,
Los Fastidios,
Kaleidoscope,
Bang On A Can,
Khruangbin,
Stereo Dub,
Jimmy McGriff,
In Retrospect,
Zero Boys,
Reuben Wilson,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Ken Boothe,
Johnny Clarke,
Faust,
the Sonics,
Newcleus,
Kenny Larkin,
Fat Boys,
Scan 7,
Monks,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sun City Girls,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Detroit Cobras,
Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth.
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.