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 Somalia and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Desert Stars to the punk 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 Niagra. All the underground hits.
All The Velvet Underground tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Inner City record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb 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 mellotron and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Graham Central Station,
Derrick Morgan,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Iggy Pop,
Crispy Ambulance,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Lou Christie,
Wings,
Robert Wyatt,
Johnny Osbourne,
Lower 48,
Urselle,
Girls At Our Best!,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Marcia Griffiths,
the Soft Cell,
Stockholm Monsters,
Niagra,
Dawn Penn,
Los Fastidios,
Colin Newman,
Inner City,
the Fania All-Stars,
Albert Ayler,
Barry Ungar,
The Dirtbombs,
Marc Almond,
Traffic Nightmare,
Public Enemy,
The Pop Group,
Sound Behaviour,
Infiniti,
Throbbing Gristle,
Skarface,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Liliput,
Letta Mbulu,
Sister Nancy,
Pierre Henry,
kango's stein massive,
Fugazi,
Terry Callier,
the Normal,
Gerry Rafferty,
Vladislav Delay,
Roy Ayers,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Sarah Menescal,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Desert Stars,
The Smiths,
Stiv Bators,
Idris Muhammad,
Pole,
Kevin Saunderson,
Flash Fearless,
Danielle Patucci,
Harpers Bizarre,
Sandy B,
Soulsonic Force,
Mars,
Davy DMX,
Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon.
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.