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 Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the güiro 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 Be Bop Deluxe to the grime 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 Pet Shop Boys. All the underground hits.
All Urselle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amazonics 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a marimba 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 synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wolf Eyes,
Bootsy Collins,
Albert Ayler,
The Neon Judgement,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
New Order,
Motorama,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Toasters,
Royal Trux,
Anthony Braxton,
Scion,
Tubeway Army,
Lucky Dragons,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Moss Icon,
Warren Ellis,
Lower 48,
The Monochrome Set,
Freddie Wadling,
Ken Boothe,
the Association,
Absolute Body Control,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Girls At Our Best!,
FM Einheit,
The Offenders,
Jerry's Kids,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Camouflage,
The Remains,
Warsaw,
Circle Jerks,
Barrington Levy,
Au Pairs,
Gregory Isaacs,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
These Immortal Souls,
Patti Smith,
Angry Samoans,
Bill Wells,
Average White Band,
Tomorrow,
Skarface,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Groovy Waters,
Delon & Dalcan,
Banda Bassotti,
Joyce Sims,
Mr. Review,
The Motions,
The Doobie Brothers,
Smog,
Ossler,
Lee Hazlewood,
Monolake,
The Gories,
Rites of Spring,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Suicide,
The Black Dice,
The Pretty Things,
One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish.
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.