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 Austria and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Bologna.
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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Wally Richardson to the dance 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 Black Bananas. All the underground hits.
All Nirvana tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DeepChord presents Echospace record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 clarinet 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 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?
Deadbeat,
Kurtis Blow,
Lightning Bolt,
Inner City,
Radiohead,
Pole,
Girls At Our Best!,
Suicide,
MDC,
Icehouse,
Howard Jones,
Colin Newman,
Al Stewart,
Joe Smooth,
Robert Hood,
Jeff Lynne,
Babytalk,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Lower 48,
Prince Buster,
Magma,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Popol Vuh,
Sixth Finger,
the Sonics,
X-102,
The Grass Roots,
Pharoah Sanders,
Fela Kuti,
Nils Olav,
Ornette Coleman,
Gichy Dan,
the Fania All-Stars,
Byron Stingily,
Minnie Riperton,
Bill Near,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Marcia Griffiths,
K-Klass,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Siglo XX,
Eric Dolphy,
Reagan Youth,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Hashim,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Raincoats,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Star Department,
Donny Hathaway,
Television,
Newcleus,
Ronnie Foster,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Malaria!,
Mars,
The Move,
A Certain Ratio,
The Slits,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Moleskins, The Moleskins, The Moleskins, The Moleskins.
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.