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 Lithuania and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Organ to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 A Flock of Seagulls. All the underground hits.
All Saccharine Trust tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minny Pops record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a 808 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 arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Black Bananas,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Tremeloes,
Susan Cadogan,
Nas,
Sugar Minott,
H. Thieme,
Von Mondo,
The Knickerbockers,
Loose Ends,
Patti Smith,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Eden Ahbez,
Ludus,
Quadrant,
Grandmaster Flash,
Howard Jones,
the Normal,
Kenny Larkin,
The Slits,
Minnie Riperton,
Amon Düül,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
E-Dancer,
D'Angelo,
Moebius,
Grey Daturas,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Japan,
Barbara Tucker,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Cybotron,
The Black Dice,
The Sonics,
Girls At Our Best!,
Fear,
The Barracudas,
Freddie Wadling,
Gichy Dan,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Shoche,
Marmalade,
Q and Not U,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Magazine,
Lightning Bolt,
The Remains,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Leaves,
Mark Hollis,
Kurtis Blow,
Gong,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Offenders,
Sun City Girls,
Al Stewart,
Rod Modell,
Lebanon Hanover,
Amazonics,
Barry Ungar,
Lalo Schifrin,
Rekid, Rekid, Rekid, Rekid.
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.