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 Congo and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Lyon.
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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the organ 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Country Joe & The Fish. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Hutcherson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arab on Radar 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin 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 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jawbox,
Wally Richardson,
Funky Four + One,
R.M.O.,
Deadbeat,
Chris Corsano,
Piero Umiliani,
Theoretical Girls,
Severed Heads,
Icehouse,
This Heat,
Sun Ra,
Heaven 17,
The Zeros,
Desert Stars,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Skriet,
The Selecter,
MDC,
Josef K,
Massinfluence,
Mantronix,
Ice-T,
Camouflage,
Eric Dolphy,
Interpol,
Amon Düül,
Oneida,
One Last Wish,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Robert Hood,
Schoolly D,
Lucky Dragons,
Juan Atkins,
Michelle Simonal,
cv313,
Technova,
The Red Krayola,
Y Pants,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Remains,
Faust,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Fuzztones,
Bill Wells,
David McCallum,
The Human League,
New York Dolls,
Tres Demented,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Khruangbin,
PIL,
Suburban Knight,
Throbbing Gristle,
Pagans,
Roxette,
The Count Five,
The Moody Blues,
The Grass Roots,
Scott Walker,
Bobby Sherman,
Joy Division,
Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon.
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.