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 Ghana and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Intrusion to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Lucky Dragons. All the underground hits.
All Electric Prunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Carl Craig 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 güiro and an oboe 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 snare and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Max Romeo,
The Moody Blues,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Ornette Coleman,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Black Dice,
Vainqueur,
Gong,
Mars,
The Gap Band,
New York Dolls,
Sugar Minott,
the Normal,
Pharoah Sanders,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Detroit Cobras,
Chris Corsano,
Connie Case,
Dark Day,
Black Bananas,
Bobby Sherman,
Jesper Dahlback,
Traffic Nightmare,
Inner City,
Con Funk Shun,
kango's stein massive,
Derrick Morgan,
F. McDonald,
Bob Dylan,
Banda Bassotti,
Tropical Tobacco,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Barry Ungar,
Black Moon,
The Cramps,
Bush Tetras,
L. Decosne,
Simply Red,
Heaven 17,
Malaria!,
Faust,
Country Teasers,
Gastr Del Sol,
Robert Görl,
Mantronix,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Circle Jerks,
Urselle,
Bluetip,
Reuben Wilson,
The Pop Group,
Robert Hood,
Y Pants,
Todd Terry,
Eden Ahbez,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Trojans,
Royal Trux,
Danielle Patucci,
Minnie Riperton,
Henry Cow,
Interpol, Interpol, Interpol, Interpol.
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.