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 Portugal and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the theremin 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 Hashim to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz. All the underground hits.
All Robert Hood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cybotron 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 an organ and a mellotron 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?
The Sisters of Mercy,
David McCallum,
Lou Reed,
Faraquet,
The Techniques,
James Chance & The Contortions,
David Axelrod,
Marcia Griffiths,
Cheater Slicks,
Bang On A Can,
Bootsy Collins,
Sparks,
Model 500,
Grey Daturas,
ABC,
Unwound,
Erykah Badu,
Arab on Radar,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
E-Dancer,
Public Enemy,
The Index,
Dark Day,
The Saints,
Wally Richardson,
Freddie Wadling,
Surgeon,
The Slackers,
Boogie Down Productions,
Masters at Work,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Vogues,
Ultravox,
H. Thieme,
Matthew Bourne,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
FM Einheit,
Fad Gadget,
Panda Bear,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Cure,
Scratch Acid,
the Human League,
Anakelly,
Royal Trux,
Aural Exciters,
Tropical Tobacco,
These Immortal Souls,
Pere Ubu,
Spoonie Gee,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Circle Jerks,
Camberwell Now,
The Moody Blues,
Fela Kuti,
Mars,
The Modern Lovers,
The Real Kids,
Bob Dylan,
Can,
The Misunderstood,
The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang.
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.