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 Congo and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Simply Red to the electroclash 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 The Martian. All the underground hits.
All Delta 5 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Qualms record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a synthesizer 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 guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Goldenarms,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Index,
Talk Talk,
The Sonics,
EPMD,
Yellowson,
The Index,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Flash Fearless,
The Last Poets,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Saccharine Trust,
Supertramp,
The Star Department,
Spandau Ballet,
Zero Boys,
Matthew Bourne,
Kerri Chandler,
Aural Exciters,
Stereo Dub,
Nik Kershaw,
Vainqueur,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Ponytail,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Max Romeo,
Black Pus,
Lakeside,
Ronan,
The Cramps,
The Grass Roots,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Das Ding,
the Slits,
Faraquet,
Thompson Twins,
Sister Nancy,
Rites of Spring,
Animal Collective,
Basic Channel,
Harry Pussy,
Tom Boy,
Althea and Donna,
Bobby Byrd,
Pussy Galore,
Con Funk Shun,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Newcleus,
Amon Düül,
Aswad,
Joey Negro,
Derrick May,
The Flesh Eaters,
Jandek,
Minnie Riperton,
The J.B.'s,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Divine Comedy,
Technova, Technova, Technova, Technova.
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.