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 Cambodia and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 F. McDonald to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Jimmy McGriff. All the underground hits.
All Fifty Foot Hose tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Depeche Mode 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a linndrum 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 marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nick Fraelich,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Gerry Rafferty,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Sällskapet,
Crime,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Saccharine Trust,
The Kinks,
Blake Baxter,
Soft Cell,
Piero Umiliani,
Barclay James Harvest,
Rosa Yemen,
Stetsasonic,
Outsiders,
Excepter,
Andrew Hill,
Supertramp,
The Tremeloes,
Alison Limerick,
Sun Ra,
The Young Rascals,
Dark Day,
Cybotron,
Matthew Halsall,
Icehouse,
Nils Olav,
Siglo XX,
Aswad,
Eddi Front,
Wally Richardson,
Lalann,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Pantytec,
Intrusion,
T.S.O.L.,
Franke,
The Birthday Party,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Royal Trux,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Marmalade,
Idris Muhammad,
Big Daddy Kane,
Jeff Lynne,
Ice-T,
Eric B and Rakim,
Alphaville,
Dawn Penn,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Stiv Bators,
Malaria!,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Pet Shop Boys,
Pharoah Sanders,
One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish.
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.