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 France and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 Toronto and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Gang Gang Dance to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Dennis Brown. All the underground hits.
All Fort Wilson Riot tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Last Poets 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a B.T. Express record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Frankie Knuckles,
Aswad,
Traffic Nightmare,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Grandmaster Flash,
Wolf Eyes,
PIL,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Cheater Slicks,
Slick Rick,
Amon Düül,
Terrestrial Tones,
Mad Mike,
Soul II Soul,
Barclay James Harvest,
Black Pus,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Pulsallama,
China Crisis,
Anthony Braxton,
Girls At Our Best!,
Outsiders,
Bad Manners,
Alphaville,
Popol Vuh,
The Fugs,
Scientists,
Eric B and Rakim,
Gang Green,
Robert Görl,
Tommy Roe,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Searchers,
The Gladiators,
Throbbing Gristle,
Groovy Waters,
Country Teasers,
Thompson Twins,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Ultimate Spinach,
The J.B.'s,
Blossom Toes,
Todd Rundgren,
The Electric Prunes,
H. Thieme,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Judy Mowatt,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Vogues,
Lebanon Hanover,
One Last Wish,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Jimmy McGriff,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Red Krayola,
Soft Cell,
Bill Near,
Smog,
June Days,
The Kinks,
Sight & Sound,
Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo.
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.