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 Nicaragua and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars 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 Unrelated Segments. All the underground hits.
All Model 500 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Y Pants 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Khruangbin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Coltrane,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Reagan Youth,
Nick Fraelich,
The Monks,
Roxette,
Leonard Cohen,
Joy Division,
Bill Near,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Echospace,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Sight & Sound,
Soulsonic Force,
Silicon Teens,
The Mummies,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Sonny Sharrock,
Agent Orange,
Jerry's Kids,
Minny Pops,
Steve Hackett,
Yaz,
Moebius,
Nico,
Whodini,
Pet Shop Boys,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Little Man,
Grandmaster Flash,
Crash Course in Science,
Bad Manners,
Matthew Halsall,
Pylon,
X-Ray Spex,
Sexual Harrassment,
Man Eating Sloth,
Boredoms,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Index,
Monolake,
Motorama,
Davy DMX,
Harmonia,
H. Thieme,
Symarip,
The Mojo Men,
The Standells,
The Beau Brummels,
Severed Heads,
Todd Terry,
Qualms,
Pole,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Robert Görl,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Blake Baxter,
The Neon Judgement,
Ronan,
Peter and Kerry,
Accadde A,
Brand Nubian,
Alphaville, Alphaville, Alphaville, Alphaville.
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.