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 Ireland and from Winnipeg.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Urselle to the grunge 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 Chris Corsano. All the underground hits.
All Heaven 17 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every This Heat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin 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 marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Happenings,
Danielle Patucci,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Rakim,
Drexciya,
Mo-Dettes,
Subhumans,
Arab on Radar,
Malaria!,
Icehouse,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Walker Brothers,
Cheater Slicks,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Robert Hood,
Sällskapet,
Pantaleimon,
The Doobie Brothers,
Outsiders,
X-Ray Spex,
The Slackers,
Ice-T,
Flash Fearless,
Faraquet,
the Association,
Cal Tjader,
Gang Starr,
Fad Gadget,
Donny Hathaway,
Tres Demented,
the Sonics,
Lucky Dragons,
Howard Jones,
Warren Ellis,
Khruangbin,
B.T. Express,
Groovy Waters,
Dead Boys,
Freddie Wadling,
Au Pairs,
Johnny Osbourne,
Kurtis Blow,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Surgeon,
Popol Vuh,
The Fortunes,
The Litter,
Robert Wyatt,
Erasure,
The Fire Engines,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Inner City,
Young Marble Giants,
Rekid,
Urselle,
Eric Copeland,
Livin' Joy,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
John Lydon,
Lou Christie,
Ralphi Rosario,
Harmonia,
Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim.
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.