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 Tonga and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Bill Wells to the punk 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 Sunsets and Hearts. All the underground hits.
All Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Drive Like Jehu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a güiro 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 rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Sonics,
Throbbing Gristle,
Funky Four + One,
Scratch Acid,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Y Pants,
Dead Boys,
James White and The Blacks,
Infiniti,
The Five Americans,
The Blues Magoos,
Chris & Cosey,
Cecil Taylor,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Gang of Four,
The Electric Prunes,
Pierre Henry,
The Doors,
Harry Pussy,
Man Eating Sloth,
48th St. Collective,
The Martian,
Colin Newman,
Matthew Bourne,
Scientists,
Hoover,
Neu!,
Dave Gahan,
Lower 48,
Deakin,
The Monochrome Set,
Maleditus Sound,
Black Sheep,
June Days,
Andrew Hill,
In Retrospect,
The American Breed,
Wolf Eyes,
Can,
Pagans,
Sister Nancy,
Motorama,
Pulsallama,
The Barracudas,
The Angels of Light,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Neon Judgement,
The Knickerbockers,
Siglo XX,
The Pop Group,
Jeff Lynne,
Gerry Rafferty,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Kinks,
Echospace,
Steve Hackett,
The Slits,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Sandy B,
Cheater Slicks,
The Victims, The Victims, The Victims, The Victims.
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.