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 Afghanistan and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Delon & Dalcan to the disco 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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs. All the underground hits.
All Spoonie Gee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Josef K record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 an organ and a snare 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?
Pulsallama,
B.T. Express,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Man Eating Sloth,
Ralphi Rosario,
Dorothy Ashby,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Pet Shop Boys,
Tres Demented,
Yaz,
La Düsseldorf,
The Beau Brummels,
Prince Buster,
Tubeway Army,
Vladislav Delay,
The Selecter,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Symarip,
Severed Heads,
Brick,
The Litter,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Half Japanese,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Bobby Byrd,
The Remains,
the Germs,
Malaria!,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Harry Pussy,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Groovy Waters,
DJ Sneak,
Porter Ricks,
Jandek,
Duran Duran,
The Star Department,
Faraquet,
ABBA,
The Moleskins,
The Monochrome Set,
The Zeros,
The Detroit Cobras,
Fatback Band,
Bush Tetras,
Tomorrow,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Shuggie Otis,
Joensuu 1685,
Aural Exciters,
The Evens,
The Vogues,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Sonic Youth,
Hashim,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Monolake,
Derrick Morgan,
Procol Harum,
The Trojans, The Trojans, The Trojans, The Trojans.
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.