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 Micronesia and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 mellotron 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 Lalo Schifrin to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Nick Fraelich. All the underground hits.
All The Fall tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Metal Thangz record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar 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 harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Erasure,
a-ha,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Gap Band,
Tears for Fears,
Animal Collective,
Eli Mardock,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Marcia Griffiths,
Aswad,
Grandmaster Flash,
Cymande,
OOIOO,
Cecil Taylor,
The Misunderstood,
The Birthday Party,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Associates,
Crispy Ambulance,
Inner City,
The Sound,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Wire,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Raincoats,
X-101,
Ken Boothe,
The Velvet Underground,
Eddi Front,
The Invisible,
Peter and Kerry,
Crispian St. Peters,
Qualms,
The Five Americans,
The Mojo Men,
Ice-T,
Second Layer,
Nirvana,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Supertramp,
The Seeds,
Surgeon,
Chris & Cosey,
Shuggie Otis,
Swans,
Leonard Cohen,
Crime,
Spandau Ballet,
Youth Brigade,
Bauhaus,
Tubeway Army,
Sparks,
FM Einheit,
Scott Walker,
Soft Cell,
Howard Jones,
Barrington Levy,
The Knickerbockers,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Pretty Things,
The Neon Judgement,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
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.