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 Argentina and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Searchers. All the underground hits.
All Blancmange tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angry Samoans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 sitar and a snare 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 sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Silicon Teens,
Black Pus,
the Normal,
The Smoke,
Fugazi,
Erasure,
Funkadelic,
MDC,
JFA,
Robert Wyatt,
The Motions,
Lebanon Hanover,
Donny Hathaway,
Icehouse,
Ornette Coleman,
Bob Dylan,
Maleditus Sound,
DJ Sneak,
Bizarre Inc.,
Technova,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Star Department,
Rhythm & Sound,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Sonics,
Wings,
Fad Gadget,
Nils Olav,
Franke,
Metal Thangz,
KRS-One,
Traffic Nightmare,
Scan 7,
Grandmaster Flash,
Second Layer,
Mr. Review,
The American Breed,
The Cramps,
Pet Shop Boys,
Minor Threat,
Rapeman,
Supertramp,
Johnny Clarke,
Soul Sonic Force,
Fela Kuti,
Letta Mbulu,
This Heat,
Electric Prunes,
the Human League,
Monks,
La Düsseldorf,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
B.T. Express,
The Mojo Men,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Q65,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Vainqueur,
Brick,
Dawn Penn,
Laurel Aitken,
Niagra, Niagra, Niagra, Niagra.
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.