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 Norway and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 LL Cool J to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Gian Franco Pienzio. All the underground hits.
All Ludus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 an arpeggiator and a clarinet 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 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Remains,
the Fania All-Stars,
Marmalade,
Sixth Finger,
K-Klass,
Nico,
Fatback Band,
The Happenings,
Bronski Beat,
Morten Harket,
Hasil Adkins,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Sällskapet,
Idris Muhammad,
The Red Krayola,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Aswad,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Vainqueur,
Blossom Toes,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Avey Tare,
Jimmy McGriff,
June Days,
The Modern Lovers,
Average White Band,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Sound,
Harry Pussy,
Derrick May,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Grass Roots,
Jacques Brel,
Suburban Knight,
Little Man,
Davy DMX,
The Gladiators,
Cymande,
Youth Brigade,
Tres Demented,
The Selecter,
Lou Christie,
Kool Moe Dee,
Groovy Waters,
Animal Collective,
Pole,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Lee Hazlewood,
Judy Mowatt,
Crispian St. Peters,
Procol Harum,
Goldenarms,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sandy B,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Smog,
Ten City,
Black Moon,
The Star Department,
Scott Walker,
DNA, DNA, DNA, DNA.
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.