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 Hungary and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Barracudas to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Khruangbin. All the underground hits.
All The Red Krayola tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Electric Prunes 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an arpeggiator 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 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cabaret Voltaire,
Donald Byrd,
Suicide,
Stockholm Monsters,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Shadows of Knight,
Anthony Braxton,
Delon & Dalcan,
Bootsy Collins,
Youth Brigade,
Infiniti,
The Litter,
Alphaville,
Sister Nancy,
Grandmaster Flash,
Big Daddy Kane,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Nik Kershaw,
Nico,
Maleditus Sound,
Severed Heads,
The Busters,
Harpers Bizarre,
Nick Fraelich,
Johnny Osbourne,
Howard Jones,
The Black Dice,
The Gladiators,
Aural Exciters,
World's Most,
The Alarm Clocks,
Rotary Connection,
Pulsallama,
Porter Ricks,
Idris Muhammad,
Patti Smith,
Scan 7,
Public Enemy,
Country Teasers,
The Beau Brummels,
Fela Kuti,
the Germs,
EPMD,
Make Up,
The Cramps,
Kurtis Blow,
Schoolly D,
Das Ding,
Toni Rubio,
H. Thieme,
Electric Prunes,
Jesper Dahlback,
Second Layer,
Mr. Review,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Rapeman,
Drexciya,
Eric B and Rakim,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Marvin Gaye,
Eden Ahbez, Eden Ahbez, Eden Ahbez, Eden Ahbez.
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.