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 New Zealand and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Manchester.
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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the guitar 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 The Gories to the jazz 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 Heavy D & The Boyz. All the underground hits.
All The Angels of Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eve St. Jones 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet 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 mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spoonie Gee,
Scion,
Silicon Teens,
JFA,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Television,
Bush Tetras,
Girls At Our Best!,
Khruangbin,
Nation of Ulysses,
Sonic Youth,
Swell Maps,
K-Klass,
Cheater Slicks,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Dual Sessions,
Spandau Ballet,
Gang of Four,
Saccharine Trust,
Robert Wyatt,
Judy Mowatt,
Max Romeo,
New York Dolls,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Hardrive,
The Evens,
Derrick May,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Black Moon,
Soul Sonic Force,
Maleditus Sound,
John Foxx,
Subhumans,
H. Thieme,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Shadows of Knight,
Sound Behaviour,
Neil Young,
James White and The Blacks,
8 Eyed Spy,
Mantronix,
Skarface,
kango's stein massive,
Charles Mingus,
Radiohead,
The Sound,
Terry Callier,
Joe Smooth,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
U.S. Maple,
Rakim,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Letta Mbulu,
Grauzone,
Wings,
Gerry Rafferty,
Ultravox,
Excepter,
Sparks,
The Motions,
The Five Americans,
Eric Copeland, Eric Copeland, Eric Copeland, Eric Copeland.
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.