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 Papua New Guinea and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Bremen.
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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
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 Zero Boys to the jazz 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 Barry Ungar. All the underground hits.
All Outsiders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Junior Murvin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an oboe 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 a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fall,
Jeff Lynne,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Cowsills,
Boz Scaggs,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Sandy B,
The Birthday Party,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Crooked Eye,
Howard Jones,
Pussy Galore,
The Tremeloes,
Pantytec,
Morten Harket,
Graham Central Station,
Lou Reed,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Techniques,
Bobby Byrd,
The Stooges,
Curtis Mayfield,
Henry Cow,
The Names,
Kaleidoscope,
Idris Muhammad,
Scratch Acid,
F. McDonald,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Harmonia,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Infiniti,
Lower 48,
Delta 5,
Skarface,
Circle Jerks,
Donny Hathaway,
Kayak,
Zero Boys,
New Age Steppers,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Reuben Wilson,
Goldenarms,
Hashim,
The Gories,
The Monks,
Parry Music,
Franke,
Hoover,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Eve St. Jones,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
DJ Style,
Jesper Dahlback,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Suburban Knight,
The Martian,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Sex Pistols,
ABC,
Inner City,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai.
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.