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 Tonga and from Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
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 Kerrie Biddell to the grime 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 Essential Logic. All the underground hits.
All The Real Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Frankie Knuckles record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an arpeggiator 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 sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Todd Rundgren,
Drive Like Jehu,
Das Ding,
Neu!,
Organ,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Country Teasers,
Marcia Griffiths,
Magazine,
D'Angelo,
Deadbeat,
Heaven 17,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Alarm Clocks,
JFA,
Colin Newman,
The Pop Group,
DNA,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Robert Görl,
The Fall,
Adolescents,
The Fire Engines,
The Gap Band,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Marmalade,
Skaos,
Wolf Eyes,
David Axelrod,
Traffic Nightmare,
Schoolly D,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Susan Cadogan,
Yazoo,
Lou Christie,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Cal Tjader,
the Soft Cell,
Vladislav Delay,
Television,
MDC,
Pantaleimon,
Steve Hackett,
The Mojo Men,
Cluster,
David Bowie,
Harmonia,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Sixth Finger,
Janne Schatter,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Crispian St. Peters,
8 Eyed Spy,
Tubeway Army,
Amon Düül,
Scrapy,
Robert Wyatt,
The Red Krayola,
EPMD,
Tim Buckley,
Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring.
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.