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 Ivory Coast and from Copenhagen.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Scrapy to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Barracudas. All the underground hits.
All Barrington Levy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispy Ambulance 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a marimba 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 guitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vladislav Delay,
Graham Central Station,
FM Einheit,
Loose Ends,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Cybotron,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Dead C,
The Pop Group,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Lower 48,
Duran Duran,
Maleditus Sound,
CMW,
Organ,
Lightning Bolt,
The Golliwogs,
Amon Düül,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Man Parrish,
Q and Not U,
Anthony Braxton,
Echospace,
Sex Pistols,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
John Coltrane,
Letta Mbulu,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Pretty Things,
Joey Negro,
The Shadows of Knight,
Mars,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Knickerbockers,
The Offenders,
Joe Smooth,
Grauzone,
The Associates,
Cluster,
Roger Hodgson,
Von Mondo,
Spandau Ballet,
The Wake,
The Five Americans,
Yazoo,
The Sound,
Section 25,
AZ,
48th St. Collective,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Maurizio,
David McCallum,
The Slackers,
Lou Christie,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Nik Kershaw,
Bush Tetras,
Dual Sessions,
Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett.
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.