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 Guyana and from Paris.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
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 Man Eating Sloth to the grunge 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 The Fall. All the underground hits.
All The Fall tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Angels of Light 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a 808 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 spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nirvana,
Robert Görl,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Standells,
Harry Pussy,
Henry Cow,
The Gun Club,
Cymande,
World's Most,
Sonny Sharrock,
Second Layer,
David Bowie,
The Slackers,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Aural Exciters,
Trumans Water,
Andrew Hill,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Dirtbombs,
Sex Pistols,
The Human League,
Marvin Gaye,
Jeru the Damaja,
Altered Images,
These Immortal Souls,
Bob Dylan,
John Cale,
John Holt,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Jeff Lynne,
New York Dolls,
Chrome,
Fat Boys,
Basic Channel,
Amon Düül,
Joensuu 1685,
Erykah Badu,
Blake Baxter,
In Retrospect,
Johnny Osbourne,
Warsaw,
a-ha,
Delta 5,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Tim Buckley,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Index,
Marshall Jefferson,
Radio Birdman,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Wolf Eyes,
The Last Poets,
The Move,
Magma,
Royal Trux,
JFA,
Tears for Fears,
Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson.
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.