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 Ecuador and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 UT 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 Vainqueur. All the underground hits.
All Selector Dub Narcotic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every F. McDonald record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 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 harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radio Birdman,
Technova,
Second Layer,
Fad Gadget,
Harry Pussy,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Silicon Teens,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Lightning Bolt,
Arthur Verocai,
Pierre Henry,
The Fortunes,
The Dave Clark Five,
Dorothy Ashby,
Jacob Miller,
D'Angelo,
James White and The Blacks,
Throbbing Gristle,
the Germs,
Marvin Gaye,
New York Dolls,
Funky Four + One,
Eddi Front,
Mary Jane Girls,
Joy Division,
John Lydon,
Bobby Womack,
Sight & Sound,
La Düsseldorf,
Davy DMX,
Tropical Tobacco,
Black Sheep,
Dual Sessions,
The Victims,
Peter and Kerry,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Y Pants,
Rhythm & Sound,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Groovy Waters,
Boogie Down Productions,
ABBA,
Vladislav Delay,
The Happenings,
Isaac Hayes,
Goldenarms,
Gang Gang Dance,
Kayak,
The Neon Judgement,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Lebanon Hanover,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Flesh Eaters,
Jimmy McGriff,
Khruangbin,
Mandrill,
Pantaleimon,
Lyres,
Bauhaus,
Spoonie Gee,
Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review.
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.