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 Yemen and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 Bologna and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Scion to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Brand Nubian. All the underground hits.
All Sarah Menescal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Sheep record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 harpsichord 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 chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Letta Mbulu,
Big Daddy Kane,
Hot Snakes,
Pussy Galore,
Main Source,
Soft Machine,
B.T. Express,
The Red Krayola,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Inner City,
Byron Stingily,
Idris Muhammad,
Q65,
China Crisis,
Fluxion,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Detroit Cobras,
Spandau Ballet,
Hardrive,
Von Mondo,
Boredoms,
Soul Sonic Force,
Deakin,
Henry Cow,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Theoretical Girls,
Derrick May,
Gabor Szabo,
Reuben Wilson,
Icehouse,
Malaria!,
The Gap Band,
Amon Düül,
Liliput,
The Electric Prunes,
The Grass Roots,
Bootsy Collins,
the Association,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Gladiators,
Tom Boy,
The American Breed,
Mandrill,
Jawbox,
Dark Day,
Outsiders,
Motorama,
The Zeros,
Toni Rubio,
Rites of Spring,
Moby Grape,
The J.B.'s,
Barclay James Harvest,
Jeru the Damaja,
Smog,
Lee Hazlewood,
Index,
Kenny Larkin,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Victims,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Bronski Beat,
Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav.
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.