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 Tunisia and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Wire show in Watford.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 güiro 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 Gregory Isaacs to the grunge 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 U.S. Maple. All the underground hits.
All F. McDonald tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bootsy's Rubber Band 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 clarinet and a guitar 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 mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Easy Going,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Electric Prunes,
Babytalk,
Ronnie Foster,
The Kinks,
Make Up,
Mo-Dettes,
Cybotron,
Black Flag,
Al Stewart,
Roy Ayers,
the Bar-Kays,
X-102,
Clear Light,
Lyres,
Von Mondo,
Sun City Girls,
Jacques Brel,
Man Parrish,
Funky Four + One,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Dawn Penn,
Marmalade,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Pop Group,
Sparks,
It's A Beautiful Day,
U.S. Maple,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Bobby Sherman,
The Music Machine,
Bobby Byrd,
Tears for Fears,
ABBA,
The Electric Prunes,
Soft Cell,
Skarface,
The Moody Blues,
Yaz,
Be Bop Deluxe,
E-Dancer,
Oblivians,
Gang Starr,
Pet Shop Boys,
Terry Callier,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Tommy Roe,
In Retrospect,
Fatback Band,
Ituana,
Vladislav Delay,
Joyce Sims,
Anakelly,
The Residents,
Banda Bassotti,
Warren Ellis,
X-101,
Unrelated Segments,
Pagans,
Dark Day,
Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust.
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.