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 Morocco and from Spokane.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the snare 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 Fort Wilson Riot to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Minutemen. All the underground hits.
All The Victims tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Public Enemy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a rhodes 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 marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
48th St. Collective,
Oneida,
Fluxion,
The Neon Judgement,
Bill Wells,
Crooked Eye,
Deadbeat,
Blancmange,
Magazine,
Hasil Adkins,
Michelle Simonal,
Gang Gang Dance,
Masters at Work,
Mars,
EPMD,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Erasure,
Dual Sessions,
Deakin,
The Alarm Clocks,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Dirtbombs,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Suicide,
David Axelrod,
The Vogues,
Maurizio,
John Cale,
Panda Bear,
The Monochrome Set,
Radio Birdman,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Drexciya,
the Sonics,
Crispy Ambulance,
Crash Course in Science,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Index,
Rotary Connection,
The Trojans,
Letta Mbulu,
The Last Poets,
Scion,
The Wake,
Cheater Slicks,
Dark Day,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
T. Rex,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Groovy Waters,
R.M.O.,
Frankie Knuckles,
the Germs,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Gerry Rafferty,
B.T. Express,
Spoonie Gee,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Steve Hackett,
World's Most,
Shoche,
Y Pants,
Lalo Schifrin,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers, De La Soul & Jungle Brothers, De La Soul & Jungle Brothers, De La Soul & Jungle Brothers.
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.