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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Bologna.
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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the güiro 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 Swell Maps to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Duran Duran. All the underground hits.
All Gian Franco Pienzio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lungfish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 güiro and a mellotron 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 oboe and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spoonie Gee,
Saccharine Trust,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
the Swans,
The Kinks,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Nico,
Althea and Donna,
Ten City,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Magazine,
June Days,
Harmonia,
Reagan Youth,
Jacob Miller,
The Last Poets,
Funkadelic,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Nils Olav,
Aaron Thompson,
The Human League,
AZ,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Flesh Eaters,
Khruangbin,
Grauzone,
John Foxx,
The Moleskins,
The Standells,
Surgeon,
Toni Rubio,
Barry Ungar,
X-101,
Clear Light,
The Gladiators,
Basic Channel,
The Martian,
Hot Snakes,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
the Sonics,
Siglo XX,
Tommy Roe,
Mark Hollis,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Faust,
The Sound,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Deakin,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Angels of Light,
A Certain Ratio,
Rapeman,
Sandy B,
Masters at Work,
Absolute Body Control,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Con Funk Shun,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Stooges, The Stooges, The Stooges, The Stooges.
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.