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 Zambia and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Alice Coltrane to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Kings Of Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All Franke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fat Boys 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a 808 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 linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rod Modell,
Oblivians,
Simply Red,
Icehouse,
Shoche,
the Association,
Todd Rundgren,
Pulsallama,
Johnny Clarke,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
E-Dancer,
Graham Central Station,
Sarah Menescal,
Scratch Acid,
Ronan,
Hashim,
Lyres,
Rosa Yemen,
Mr. Review,
Q65,
Y Pants,
Grandmaster Flash,
Wings,
Clear Light,
DJ Style,
Black Pus,
Terrestrial Tones,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Basic Channel,
Television,
The Red Krayola,
Lou Reed,
Bobby Byrd,
Nirvana,
Dennis Brown,
Rotary Connection,
Terry Callier,
Radio Birdman,
The Doobie Brothers,
Organ,
Funkadelic,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Mojo Men,
Black Moon,
Bobby Womack,
Radiopuhelimet,
New Order,
Dead Boys,
Moss Icon,
Barclay James Harvest,
Model 500,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Mars,
R.M.O.,
Jandek,
Man Parrish,
Sonny Sharrock,
Matthew Halsall,
Lou Christie,
The Monks,
Minor Threat,
Cluster,
Chris Corsano,
Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes.
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.