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 Bolivia and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Sonics to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Skatalites. All the underground hits.
All Derrick May tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eyeless In Gaza 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a harpsichord 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 an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fugs,
Sly & The Family Stone,
June Days,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Anakelly,
Kayak,
The Human League,
The Blues Magoos,
The New Christs,
Prince Buster,
Barclay James Harvest,
Peter and Kerry,
Connie Case,
Todd Rundgren,
Eden Ahbez,
Franke,
Ronan,
Roxette,
Ultravox,
The Martian,
Cecil Taylor,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
ABC,
The Slits,
Letta Mbulu,
Jerry's Kids,
These Immortal Souls,
Sonny Sharrock,
Fugazi,
the Slits,
The Real Kids,
Brothers Johnson,
Sonic Youth,
Thee Headcoats,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
JFA,
Lakeside,
Tubeway Army,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Buzzcocks,
Shoche,
the Sonics,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Radiopuhelimet,
Sex Pistols,
Talk Talk,
John Foxx,
Junior Murvin,
The Mojo Men,
Monks,
Mars,
Dual Sessions,
Hardrive,
PIL,
Basic Channel,
The Pop Group,
Jandek,
The Dead C,
Yaz,
The Last Poets,
Patti Smith, Patti Smith, Patti Smith, Patti Smith.
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.