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 Guinea and from Winnipeg.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Fela Kuti to the punk 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 Derrick May. All the underground hits.
All Michelle Simonal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Dolphy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a mellotron 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 synthesizer and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Youth Brigade,
Swans,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
World's Most,
Maurizio,
Hardrive,
The Leaves,
Robert Görl,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Joe Finger,
Make Up,
Slave,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Mojo Men,
Audionom,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
John Holt,
Fluxion,
Sonny Sharrock,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Nils Olav,
Jacques Brel,
Jacob Miller,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Scion,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Faraquet,
Gil Scott Heron,
Ralphi Rosario,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Zeros,
The Count Five,
Aaron Thompson,
Gang Starr,
Amon Düül,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Alarm Clocks,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Roxette,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Joe Smooth,
Mary Jane Girls,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The New Christs,
The Searchers,
Wally Richardson,
Lou Christie,
Dawn Penn,
Minutemen,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
the Normal,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
R.M.O.,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Seeds,
Pulsallama,
Blancmange,
Grandmaster Flash,
Guru Guru,
The Standells,
Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans.
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.