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 Gambia and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Dead Boys. All the underground hits.
All Average White Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cabaret Voltaire record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a guitar 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 spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Bananas,
Cheater Slicks,
New York Dolls,
Quantec,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Wasted Youth,
Section 25,
Susan Cadogan,
Gichy Dan,
Young Marble Giants,
Das Ding,
Scott Walker,
R.M.O.,
Deepchord,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Gang Green,
Donald Byrd,
F. McDonald,
Jawbox,
Zapp,
Bad Manners,
Brass Construction,
Terrestrial Tones,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Scan 7,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
One Last Wish,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Groovy Waters,
Chris Corsano,
the Slits,
Peter and Kerry,
The Gap Band,
The Smoke,
The Associates,
Bob Dylan,
Mantronix,
Ornette Coleman,
Matthew Halsall,
Nik Kershaw,
Main Source,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Ituana,
Jacob Miller,
Bush Tetras,
Sonic Youth,
Albert Ayler,
Minutemen,
Cameo,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Popol Vuh,
The Knickerbockers,
James White and The Blacks,
Model 500,
Marine Girls,
Pantytec,
Bauhaus,
Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work.
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.