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 Madagascar and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Mumbai.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Swell Maps to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 One Last Wish. All the underground hits.
All Juan Atkins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Association record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum 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 theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Neil Young,
The Fuzztones,
Curtis Mayfield,
Lakeside,
Thee Headcoats,
Bush Tetras,
Malaria!,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Minutemen,
Joyce Sims,
Soft Cell,
New Order,
The Angels of Light,
Lindisfarne,
The Misunderstood,
Eurythmics,
The American Breed,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Dual Sessions,
Intrusion,
Visage,
ABBA,
The Associates,
The Monks,
Ponytail,
Marvin Gaye,
The Barracudas,
Lalo Schifrin,
James White and The Blacks,
The Star Department,
Sällskapet,
Altered Images,
kango's stein massive,
Babytalk,
MC5,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Barclay James Harvest,
Radiohead,
Duran Duran,
Motorama,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Scratch Acid,
Gang Starr,
Dennis Brown,
Pussy Galore,
The Searchers,
Todd Terry,
Glenn Branca,
Gang Green,
Ronnie Foster,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Real Kids,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Man Eating Sloth,
Audionom,
Siglo XX,
This Heat,
Depeche Mode,
Japan,
Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya.
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.