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 Croatia and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the sitar 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 Absolute Body Control to the crunk 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 10cc. All the underground hits.
All Ronan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a rhodes 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 sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Banda Bassotti,
the Sonics,
Index,
Ludus,
Shuggie Otis,
John Lydon,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Groovy Waters,
Scott Walker,
Glenn Branca,
Gang of Four,
Pantytec,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Slick Rick,
Nick Fraelich,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Accadde A,
Crispy Ambulance,
Amon Düül II,
Barclay James Harvest,
Swell Maps,
Radio Birdman,
Minor Threat,
Amon Düül,
The Dirtbombs,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Velvet Underground,
The Busters,
KRS-One,
Rapeman,
Johnny Osbourne,
Glambeats Corp.,
ABBA,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Malaria!,
Nas,
Yusef Lateef,
Soft Machine,
Jawbox,
The Move,
Organ,
Hoover,
Negative Approach,
Stiv Bators,
The Gap Band,
The Monochrome Set,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Ken Boothe,
Gastr Del Sol,
La Düsseldorf,
Funkadelic,
Flamin' Groovies,
Con Funk Shun,
Depeche Mode,
Model 500,
The Electric Prunes,
Sister Nancy,
Kas Product,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Joensuu 1685,
The Neon Judgement,
Goldenarms, Goldenarms, Goldenarms, Goldenarms.
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.