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 Ivory Coast and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the sitar 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 The Pretty Things to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Sexual Harrassment. All the underground hits.
All Lonnie Liston Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cosmic Jokers 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a snare 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 marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alphaville,
Black Bananas,
Tropical Tobacco,
Intrusion,
Gang Gang Dance,
John Holt,
Henry Cow,
Kayak,
The Sonics,
Scion,
Wire,
In Retrospect,
Surgeon,
Half Japanese,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Glenn Branca,
Mad Mike,
FM Einheit,
Gang of Four,
Joyce Sims,
Unrelated Segments,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Alarm Clocks,
Accadde A,
Nirvana,
MC5,
The Flesh Eaters,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Ponytail,
Donald Byrd,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Johnny Clarke,
X-101,
The New Christs,
Ossler,
Roxy Music,
Flipper,
The Dirtbombs,
Au Pairs,
Nils Olav,
The Martian,
Lightning Bolt,
New Age Steppers,
Youth Brigade,
Silicon Teens,
Shuggie Otis,
Rufus Thomas,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Soulsonic Force,
Von Mondo,
Brand Nubian,
The Grass Roots,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Isaac Hayes,
Davy DMX,
Frankie Knuckles,
The United States of America,
Zero Boys,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Soft Machine,
The Motions,
Sparks,
Marshall Jefferson,
Animal Collective, Animal Collective, Animal Collective, Animal Collective.
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.