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 United States and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Copenhagen.
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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Pretty Things to the grime 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 Walker Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Sly & The Family Stone tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed & Metallica 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 theremin 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 marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aural Exciters,
Big Daddy Kane,
Negative Approach,
John Foxx,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Gichy Dan,
Letta Mbulu,
Funkadelic,
AZ,
Radiohead,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Blues Magoos,
Soft Cell,
Freddie Wadling,
Agent Orange,
Kenny Larkin,
Nas,
The Skatalites,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Pop Group,
X-Ray Spex,
Wire,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Marine Girls,
Supertramp,
Lungfish,
Bill Wells,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Main Source,
Prince Buster,
Graham Central Station,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
EPMD,
Anakelly,
Inner City,
Eric Copeland,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
U.S. Maple,
Surgeon,
Adolescents,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
June of 44,
Kevin Saunderson,
Ituana,
The Moody Blues,
Monolake,
Siglo XX,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Buckinghams,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Charles Mingus,
Model 500,
The Invisible,
Grey Daturas,
ABC,
Bobby Byrd,
Radio Birdman,
Marc Almond,
Bauhaus,
Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses.
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.