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 Cuba and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Ornette Coleman. All the underground hits.
All Cecil Taylor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gregory Isaacs 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator 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 theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rakim,
The Modern Lovers,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Red Krayola,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Piero Umiliani,
Glambeats Corp.,
Ponytail,
Blake Baxter,
Joensuu 1685,
Spoonie Gee,
Kayak,
DJ Style,
Blossom Toes,
Albert Ayler,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Gabor Szabo,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Eric Dolphy,
Cluster,
The Count Five,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Public Enemy,
Bush Tetras,
Rhythm & Sound,
Nik Kershaw,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Unwound,
The Beau Brummels,
K-Klass,
Urselle,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Procol Harum,
The Star Department,
Soul II Soul,
Skarface,
Marshall Jefferson,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Duran Duran,
A Certain Ratio,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Cowsills,
Babytalk,
Archie Shepp,
Fluxion,
Soft Machine,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Neon Judgement,
Ralphi Rosario,
New York Dolls,
Marvin Gaye,
Mr. Review,
Japan,
Chris Corsano,
Hot Snakes,
Tubeway Army,
New Order,
Pole,
Television,
Sight & Sound,
Bill Wells,
Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes.
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.