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 Kazakhstan and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Oppenheimer Analysis. All the underground hits.
All Kaleidoscope tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Index record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro 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 guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suburban Knight,
Magma,
The Grass Roots,
Smog,
The Doors,
Chris & Cosey,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Little Man,
The Pop Group,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Amon Düül II,
R.M.O.,
Television,
Kerri Chandler,
Ice-T,
The Divine Comedy,
Mad Mike,
Kaleidoscope,
Eric Copeland,
Jeff Mills,
Henry Cow,
Charles Mingus,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Moleskins,
The Cramps,
the Swans,
Anakelly,
Roger Hodgson,
Fela Kuti,
The Dirtbombs,
Banda Bassotti,
Glambeats Corp.,
Stiv Bators,
Sällskapet,
Man Eating Sloth,
Jeff Lynne,
UT,
Simply Red,
Steve Hackett,
Public Image Ltd.,
Donny Hathaway,
Cameo,
Duran Duran,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Lou Reed,
Excepter,
The Real Kids,
The Techniques,
Severed Heads,
Swell Maps,
The Flesh Eaters,
Jawbox,
Symarip,
T. Rex,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Neil Young,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Ultra Naté,
Oneida,
Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy.
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.