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 Bhutan and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 James Chance & The Contortions to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx. All the underground hits.
All The Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every La Düsseldorf record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar 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 mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cameo,
Technova,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Goldenarms,
K-Klass,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Loose Ends,
Amon Düül II,
Moebius,
The Five Americans,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Organ,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Neil Young,
The Smiths,
Letta Mbulu,
The Misunderstood,
Siglo XX,
Gang Gang Dance,
Cheater Slicks,
The Detroit Cobras,
Young Marble Giants,
Gabor Szabo,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Liliput,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Divine Comedy,
The Selecter,
The Buckinghams,
L. Decosne,
Pagans,
Vainqueur,
the Normal,
Godley & Creme,
Franke,
the Bar-Kays,
Rufus Thomas,
The Barracudas,
Newcleus,
the Soft Cell,
Rakim,
The United States of America,
Drive Like Jehu,
X-102,
Eric Dolphy,
Bootsy Collins,
The Index,
Sonny Sharrock,
Whodini,
Joensuu 1685,
Television,
MDC,
The Flesh Eaters,
Chris Corsano,
Patti Smith,
Neu!,
Qualms,
Sandy B,
Scott Walker,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Stooges,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman.
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.