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 Egypt and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Ronan to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Rapeman. All the underground hits.
All X-101 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bob Dylan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a linndrum 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 rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Goldenarms,
Bill Near,
Traffic Nightmare,
Radio Birdman,
Ronnie Foster,
The J.B.'s,
Agitation Free,
Reuben Wilson,
Quadrant,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Rosa Yemen,
Laurel Aitken,
Barclay James Harvest,
Deepchord,
Susan Cadogan,
Dorothy Ashby,
Throbbing Gristle,
Motorama,
Desert Stars,
Erykah Badu,
Gong,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Y Pants,
Robert Hood,
Roger Hodgson,
Pole,
Scrapy,
Unwound,
Yusef Lateef,
David Bowie,
Mad Mike,
Malaria!,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Make Up,
Subhumans,
Tres Demented,
The Durutti Column,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Fuzztones,
Chris Corsano,
Au Pairs,
Model 500,
Sight & Sound,
the Slits,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Brand Nubian,
Nick Fraelich,
Eli Mardock,
The Litter,
Magazine,
Heaven 17,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Martian,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Albert Ayler,
Pussy Galore,
Easy Going,
The Beau Brummels,
Skaos,
Stetsasonic,
Soul II Soul,
June of 44,
Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill.
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.