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 France and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Can to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 June Days. All the underground hits.
All Mantronix tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wasted Youth 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a theremin 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 mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Supertramp,
Royal Trux,
Neu!,
Gastr Del Sol,
Tom Boy,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Procol Harum,
Chris Corsano,
Maurizio,
Ponytail,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Chrome,
Young Marble Giants,
Kayak,
Dead Boys,
Rakim,
the Slits,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
June Days,
Little Man,
X-101,
The Raincoats,
Warren Ellis,
Susan Cadogan,
Liliput,
Faraquet,
Massinfluence,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Stooges,
Wire,
Man Parrish,
Black Moon,
Pagans,
Terrestrial Tones,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Lebanon Hanover,
Parry Music,
Soul II Soul,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Terry Callier,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Jeru the Damaja,
Charles Mingus,
Quantec,
Sun Ra,
Kool Moe Dee,
Das Ding,
Ultimate Spinach,
Danielle Patucci,
Nirvana,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Sound,
Bobby Sherman,
Yellowson,
Joy Division,
Scientists,
Johnny Clarke,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Ice-T, Ice-T, Ice-T, Ice-T.
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.