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 Cyprus and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 arpeggiator 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 Angry Samoans to the techno 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 Minnie Riperton. All the underground hits.
All Chris Corsano tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boredoms record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a chamberlin and a güiro 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 organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
James White and The Blacks,
Soft Machine,
the Bar-Kays,
Banda Bassotti,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Girls At Our Best!,
Soul II Soul,
The Busters,
Nas,
Rapeman,
Scrapy,
Donny Hathaway,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Porter Ricks,
Marmalade,
New York Dolls,
The Cramps,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Sun City Girls,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Japan,
The Fuzztones,
Kerri Chandler,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Barrington Levy,
Sister Nancy,
X-Ray Spex,
Barclay James Harvest,
Swans,
Circle Jerks,
Lalo Schifrin,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Brand Nubian,
MC5,
Organ,
Cameo,
Symarip,
Model 500,
Urselle,
Quando Quango,
Black Bananas,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
PIL,
Monks,
Eric B and Rakim,
Niagra,
Vladislav Delay,
Pierre Henry,
Cluster,
Wire,
Mark Hollis,
Q and Not U,
Little Man,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Star Department,
Kayak,
Rotary Connection,
Amazonics,
Can, Can, Can, Can.
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.