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 Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Sao Paulo.
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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Oppenheimer Analysis to the rap 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 Crooked Eye. All the underground hits.
All Bill Wells tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mad Mike 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 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 marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crooked Eye,
Pantaleimon,
The Remains,
Lee Hazlewood,
Pere Ubu,
The Young Rascals,
Amon Düül II,
CMW,
Average White Band,
Davy DMX,
Lakeside,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Pole,
Kenny Larkin,
The Fugs,
8 Eyed Spy,
Yusef Lateef,
Lou Christie,
Roxette,
Magazine,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Television Personalities,
Stockholm Monsters,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Simply Red,
Pantytec,
Altered Images,
Rites of Spring,
New Order,
Unwound,
Intrusion,
Basic Channel,
The Real Kids,
Swell Maps,
Swans,
The Kinks,
Matthew Bourne,
The Gories,
Andrew Hill,
Second Layer,
Vladislav Delay,
Sex Pistols,
The Doors,
Wire,
The Flesh Eaters,
Judy Mowatt,
Joe Finger,
Scan 7,
Bobby Sherman,
Scrapy,
A Flock of Seagulls,
KRS-One,
The Red Krayola,
MC5,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Residents,
The Electric Prunes,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Index,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Music Machine,
Malaria!,
R.M.O., R.M.O., R.M.O., R.M.O..
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.