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 Belgium and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron 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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 LL Cool J to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Alarm Clocks. All the underground hits.
All Loose Ends tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Unrelated Segments record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a snare 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 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?
Rufus Thomas,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Amon Düül,
Mars,
Sparks,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
T. Rex,
Urselle,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
DJ Sneak,
Skriet,
Maleditus Sound,
Arcadia,
Echospace,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Velvet Underground,
New York Dolls,
Bill Wells,
Stockholm Monsters,
Kerrie Biddell,
Simply Red,
Derrick May,
Marc Almond,
Sister Nancy,
Toni Rubio,
New Order,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Trojans,
Kool Moe Dee,
Man Eating Sloth,
Lebanon Hanover,
Kenny Larkin,
Amazonics,
A Certain Ratio,
The Five Americans,
The United States of America,
Y Pants,
Bad Manners,
Average White Band,
Rod Modell,
Black Pus,
Newcleus,
The Walker Brothers,
Nico,
Roxette,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Gun Club,
Marmalade,
James White and The Blacks,
Scan 7,
The Happenings,
Sarah Menescal,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Camberwell Now,
The Moleskins,
The Kinks,
ABBA,
Bluetip,
Crime,
Whodini, Whodini, Whodini, Whodini.
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.