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 Australia and from Bologna.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Tomorrow to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Delon & Dalcan. All the underground hits.
All Brick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Janne Schatter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 an organ 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 harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Happenings,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Amon Düül II,
Lalo Schifrin,
Kevin Saunderson,
Cymande,
The American Breed,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Danielle Patucci,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Cameo,
Animal Collective,
Procol Harum,
Nation of Ulysses,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Blossom Toes,
Neu!,
Scion,
Jeru the Damaja,
Gabor Szabo,
The Flesh Eaters,
Nils Olav,
Delon & Dalcan,
the Human League,
The Doobie Brothers,
Yusef Lateef,
Public Image Ltd.,
Excepter,
Bronski Beat,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Flamin' Groovies,
This Heat,
Ronan,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Kool Moe Dee,
Roy Ayers,
Lyres,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Ken Boothe,
Unwound,
Bill Near,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
the Slits,
Throbbing Gristle,
Ten City,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Newcleus,
Talk Talk,
Saccharine Trust,
The Standells,
Silicon Teens,
Warren Ellis,
Eurythmics,
Hashim,
Absolute Body Control,
Masters at Work,
Robert Görl,
Connie Case,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs.
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.