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 Hungary and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 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 Rakim to the grime 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 Louis and Bebe Barron. All the underground hits.
All Fort Wilson Riot tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ponytail 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba 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 harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tomorrow,
Rekid,
Tim Buckley,
X-102,
Cheater Slicks,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Section 25,
The Count Five,
Scratch Acid,
Harmonia,
Vainqueur,
Groovy Waters,
Absolute Body Control,
Newcleus,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Underground Resistance,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Angry Samoans,
Drexciya,
The Tremeloes,
Piero Umiliani,
Accadde A,
Tommy Roe,
Crispian St. Peters,
Jacques Brel,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
New Age Steppers,
Royal Trux,
The Raincoats,
Stetsasonic,
The Barracudas,
PIL,
The Wake,
The Young Rascals,
Eden Ahbez,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Infiniti,
Nation of Ulysses,
Derrick May,
DJ Sneak,
The Sonics,
Buzzcocks,
Bad Manners,
F. McDonald,
Pharoah Sanders,
These Immortal Souls,
The Human League,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Zero Boys,
The Moleskins,
Thee Headcoats,
Soul II Soul,
The Slits,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Trojans,
Davy DMX,
Sex Pistols,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Mission of Burma,
The Index, The Index, The Index, The Index.
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.