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 Spain and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 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 LL Cool J to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Lungfish. All the underground hits.
All Inner City tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Eating Sloth 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a rhodes 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 harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nas,
Moss Icon,
Ultravox,
LL Cool J,
Aloha Tigers,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Little Man,
Bobby Sherman,
The Dead C,
Andrew Hill,
Skriet,
Alphaville,
Rites of Spring,
Accadde A,
Maurizio,
Michelle Simonal,
Wasted Youth,
Ohio Players,
Stereo Dub,
Pulsallama,
Popol Vuh,
The Fall,
Piero Umiliani,
World's Most,
Sarah Menescal,
Black Moon,
Model 500,
Skaos,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Flamin' Groovies,
Scion,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Stiv Bators,
The Skatalites,
Bizarre Inc.,
Rufus Thomas,
Qualms,
Lalo Schifrin,
Bob Dylan,
The Divine Comedy,
Pussy Galore,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Barclay James Harvest,
China Crisis,
Marshall Jefferson,
Dave Gahan,
Desert Stars,
The Gun Club,
The Saints,
Whodini,
the Association,
The Knickerbockers,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Durutti Column,
Letta Mbulu,
Dual Sessions,
Mantronix,
The Martian,
Connie Case,
The Remains,
Sixth Finger,
Gastr Del Sol,
Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys.
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.