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 Dominican Republic and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the organ 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 The Kinks to the dance 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 The Human League. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young & Crazy Horse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pagans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a synthesizer 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 sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Tres Demented,
Pierre Henry,
Slick Rick,
The Modern Lovers,
The Last Poets,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Don Cherry,
Sex Pistols,
F. McDonald,
World's Most,
X-101,
Sight & Sound,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Raincoats,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Kas Product,
Cal Tjader,
Stetsasonic,
Donny Hathaway,
Brass Construction,
John Foxx,
The Gories,
Bootsy Collins,
The Neon Judgement,
The Fortunes,
Arab on Radar,
Big Daddy Kane,
Malaria!,
Bluetip,
The Slits,
Eric B and Rakim,
Gang Green,
Derrick May,
Khruangbin,
Eli Mardock,
Gang of Four,
The Divine Comedy,
KRS-One,
Man Parrish,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Heaven 17,
Soft Machine,
Peter & Gordon,
New York Dolls,
Tim Buckley,
Mary Jane Girls,
Laurel Aitken,
Qualms,
Minor Threat,
The Move,
Janne Schatter,
Barrington Levy,
The Busters,
the Slits,
Bobby Sherman,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Roy Ayers,
The J.B.'s,
The Fall,
Kerri Chandler,
Ajijia Myrayebe, Ajijia Myrayebe, Ajijia Myrayebe, Ajijia Myrayebe.
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.