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 Spain and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Lagos.
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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Symarip to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Pierre Henry. All the underground hits.
All Deakin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every It's A Beautiful Day record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a H. Thieme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sex Pistols,
Marvin Gaye,
Rosa Yemen,
Oneida,
Man Parrish,
The Buckinghams,
June of 44,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Japan,
Vladislav Delay,
Chrome,
Wire,
Sam Rivers,
Gastr Del Sol,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Heaven 17,
The Fire Engines,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Lalo Schifrin,
UT,
Nik Kershaw,
Au Pairs,
Todd Rundgren,
T.S.O.L.,
Amazonics,
Nick Fraelich,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Amon Düül II,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Pierre Henry,
The Smiths,
Bush Tetras,
Moebius,
Scientists,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
ABC,
Marshall Jefferson,
Bang On A Can,
Cal Tjader,
The Invisible,
The Searchers,
Nation of Ulysses,
Depeche Mode,
Flipper,
Joe Smooth,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Dirtbombs,
The Neon Judgement,
Masters at Work,
Robert Wyatt,
CMW,
Section 25,
Barrington Levy,
The Music Machine,
Yusef Lateef,
Brick,
The Misunderstood,
Urselle,
Stetsasonic,
Sound Behaviour,
Minny Pops,
Deepchord, Deepchord, Deepchord, Deepchord.
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.