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 Kiribati and from Accra.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Lonnie Liston Smith to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Don Cherry. All the underground hits.
All Traffic Nightmare tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Fraelich record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a chamberlin 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 marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brand Nubian,
Quando Quango,
One Last Wish,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Vainqueur,
Blossom Toes,
D'Angelo,
Man Eating Sloth,
Pagans,
The Cure,
Kool Moe Dee,
Rekid,
Fugazi,
Jacob Miller,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Beau Brummels,
Gong,
The Last Poets,
Spandau Ballet,
The New Christs,
The Dead C,
Freddie Wadling,
Scrapy,
Country Teasers,
Cal Tjader,
CMW,
Whodini,
Ice-T,
the Bar-Kays,
The Moleskins,
New Order,
Intrusion,
Zero Boys,
The Searchers,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Fire Engines,
Franke,
Stockholm Monsters,
Clear Light,
Can,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Jesper Dahlback,
Slick Rick,
Rotary Connection,
JFA,
Rhythm & Sound,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Graham Central Station,
Eric Copeland,
ABBA,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Fugs,
Altered Images,
Royal Trux,
Camouflage,
Morten Harket,
Judy Mowatt,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Nas,
Anthony Braxton, Anthony Braxton, Anthony Braxton, Anthony Braxton.
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.