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 Armenia and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Houston.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 The Gap Band to the jazz 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 James White and The Blacks. All the underground hits.
All Monolake tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Matthew Halsall record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an organ 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 mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wire,
The Gun Club,
The Beau Brummels,
Cecil Taylor,
Jacob Miller,
Ultra Naté,
Brothers Johnson,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Gabor Szabo,
Smog,
The Detroit Cobras,
Deepchord,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Pere Ubu,
Alison Limerick,
Bobby Sherman,
Aural Exciters,
Motorama,
PIL,
Junior Murvin,
Lungfish,
Magazine,
Iggy Pop,
Hot Snakes,
Basic Channel,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Cramps,
Johnny Osbourne,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Blossom Toes,
June of 44,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Sonics,
Robert Wyatt,
The Dave Clark Five,
X-Ray Spex,
James White and The Blacks,
The Tremeloes,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Seeds,
Trumans Water,
Vladislav Delay,
These Immortal Souls,
The Modern Lovers,
Quantec,
The Human League,
Zero Boys,
Quando Quango,
Yaz,
Grauzone,
Pierre Henry,
Talk Talk,
Ronnie Foster,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Black Bananas,
The Invisible,
KRS-One,
Nation of Ulysses,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Bill Wells,
Don Cherry,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx.
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.