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 Azerbaijan and from Jakarta.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the organ 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 DNA to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Bob Dylan. All the underground hits.
All Sunsets and Hearts tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Grass Roots record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 808 and a sitar 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 an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roger Hodgson,
The Names,
Make Up,
LL Cool J,
The Misunderstood,
Funkadelic,
Tomorrow,
Byron Stingily,
Aaron Thompson,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Babytalk,
the Slits,
Joey Negro,
The Sonics,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Bush Tetras,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Aural Exciters,
Deadbeat,
Quadrant,
Slave,
Symarip,
Gang Starr,
Laurel Aitken,
Sound Behaviour,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Fuzztones,
Fat Boys,
D'Angelo,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Youth Brigade,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
FM Einheit,
Scan 7,
Todd Rundgren,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Excepter,
Black Bananas,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
La Düsseldorf,
Das Ding,
Duran Duran,
Freddie Wadling,
Mark Hollis,
Sixth Finger,
Rod Modell,
Josef K,
Marvin Gaye,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Subhumans,
Gregory Isaacs,
Ossler,
Derrick Morgan,
Warsaw,
Michelle Simonal,
Kas Product,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Accadde A,
One Last Wish,
Eurythmics,
Zero Boys,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Move, The Move, The Move, The Move.
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.