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 Philippines and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 Mexico City and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 spring reverb 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 Audionom to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Sparks. All the underground hits.
All Warsaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gastr Del Sol record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a mellotron 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 organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
MDC,
Theoretical Girls,
The American Breed,
Blake Baxter,
Black Moon,
Unwound,
Little Man,
Alphaville,
Nas,
Gerry Rafferty,
Surgeon,
ABC,
The Pretty Things,
The Slackers,
The Tremeloes,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Masters at Work,
Intrusion,
The Alarm Clocks,
F. McDonald,
Laurel Aitken,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Pulsallama,
In Retrospect,
The Standells,
Accadde A,
Carl Craig,
John Holt,
Smog,
Clear Light,
Zapp,
Ludus,
cv313,
Robert Hood,
Wolf Eyes,
Arab on Radar,
Alice Coltrane,
Sarah Menescal,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Lou Christie,
Moss Icon,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Talk Talk,
Janne Schatter,
Lou Reed,
Peter and Kerry,
John Foxx,
Gong,
The Moody Blues,
kango's stein massive,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Neon Judgement,
Andrew Hill,
Delon & Dalcan,
Jeff Mills,
Amon Düül II,
Dave Gahan,
Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall.
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.