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 Brunei and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Vaughan Mason & Crew to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Skatalites. All the underground hits.
All Dead Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Prince Buster record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a synthesizer 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 guitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rhythm & Sound,
The Fortunes,
The Smoke,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lakeside,
Soft Cell,
Jacques Brel,
June of 44,
Aswad,
Mission of Burma,
Laurel Aitken,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
D'Angelo,
Flamin' Groovies,
T.S.O.L.,
Tim Buckley,
The Detroit Cobras,
OOIOO,
Sexual Harrassment,
Organ,
The Slits,
Oneida,
Q and Not U,
Talk Talk,
John Cale,
Niagra,
David Bowie,
Chris & Cosey,
Sam Rivers,
Jesper Dahlback,
Bill Wells,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Anthony Braxton,
Dark Day,
Connie Case,
The Busters,
Kenny Larkin,
Country Teasers,
Severed Heads,
Janne Schatter,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Toasters,
Parry Music,
Sugar Minott,
Banda Bassotti,
In Retrospect,
Matthew Bourne,
Marc Almond,
Electric Prunes,
Henry Cow,
Moebius,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Gladiators,
Howard Jones,
Alton Ellis,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Barracudas,
Kas Product,
Scan 7,
New York Dolls,
Byron Stingily,
Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith.
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.