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 Luxembourg and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Trumans Water to the rap 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 Frankie Knuckles. All the underground hits.
All Art Ensemble Of Chicago tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glenn Branca 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a güiro 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 spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barrington Levy,
ABC,
Tropical Tobacco,
Aswad,
Rod Modell,
Interpol,
La Düsseldorf,
Susan Cadogan,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Severed Heads,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
T.S.O.L.,
The Modern Lovers,
Swell Maps,
Bang On A Can,
The Durutti Column,
JFA,
The Invisible,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Essential Logic,
Ultravox,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Arcadia,
David Bowie,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Slick Rick,
Boz Scaggs,
Khruangbin,
Q and Not U,
Black Sheep,
Kurtis Blow,
Unrelated Segments,
Rufus Thomas,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Neu!,
Vainqueur,
Joey Negro,
The Mojo Men,
The Alarm Clocks,
Livin' Joy,
Man Parrish,
T. Rex,
Oblivians,
Jeff Mills,
Flash Fearless,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Absolute Body Control,
Pussy Galore,
Grauzone,
Wally Richardson,
Newcleus,
X-Ray Spex,
Brand Nubian,
The Moody Blues,
Procol Harum,
The Techniques,
Gerry Rafferty,
Simply Red,
LL Cool J,
Soul Sonic Force,
Kerri Chandler,
Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee.
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.