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 Georgia and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Al Stewart to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Q and Not U. All the underground hits.
All Electric Light Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glenn Branca record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator 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 organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Skatalites,
Faraquet,
Scion,
Pylon,
The Golliwogs,
Slave,
Flamin' Groovies,
Moby Grape,
The New Christs,
Shoche,
Joey Negro,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Scott Walker,
Big Daddy Kane,
Fat Boys,
Rosa Yemen,
Basic Channel,
Ituana,
Schoolly D,
Pagans,
Ultimate Spinach,
Dave Gahan,
Niagra,
Bauhaus,
Black Sheep,
Ronnie Foster,
Sparks,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Colin Newman,
Surgeon,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Erasure,
The Fall,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
James White and The Blacks,
The Zeros,
Lyres,
Pussy Galore,
Eden Ahbez,
Ornette Coleman,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Invisible,
Echospace,
The Kinks,
Kas Product,
E-Dancer,
Agitation Free,
The Techniques,
Gang of Four,
Glambeats Corp.,
New Age Steppers,
Lightning Bolt,
Country Teasers,
Boz Scaggs,
Deakin,
Spandau Ballet,
Chris & Cosey,
Dorothy Ashby,
Dawn Penn,
Ice-T,
Danielle Patucci,
Howard Jones,
The Blackbyrds,
Alphaville,
MDC, MDC, MDC, MDC.
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.