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 Poland and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 T.S.O.L. to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Urselle. All the underground hits.
All Basic Channel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Tremeloes 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb 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 marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David Bowie,
Joensuu 1685,
the Soft Cell,
X-Ray Spex,
Joey Negro,
Cecil Taylor,
Gastr Del Sol,
Quando Quango,
Fatback Band,
Silicon Teens,
Jacques Brel,
The Trojans,
Ohio Players,
Stereo Dub,
Bronski Beat,
Siglo XX,
F. McDonald,
Juan Atkins,
Con Funk Shun,
The Sound,
Sister Nancy,
The Shadows of Knight,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Slits,
a-ha,
Von Mondo,
The Birthday Party,
T.S.O.L.,
The Walker Brothers,
Shoche,
Alphaville,
Suicide,
Maleditus Sound,
Nils Olav,
The Divine Comedy,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Carl Craig,
The Cure,
LL Cool J,
John Coltrane,
Negative Approach,
The Star Department,
Bluetip,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Drexciya,
Judy Mowatt,
The American Breed,
Panda Bear,
The Neon Judgement,
Mandrill,
Donald Byrd,
Massinfluence,
Brick,
The Gap Band,
Fugazi,
Jawbox,
The Techniques,
Nation of Ulysses,
Easy Going,
UT,
Lalo Schifrin,
John Foxx,
Sexual Harrassment,
Delon & Dalcan, Delon & Dalcan, Delon & Dalcan, Delon & Dalcan.
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.