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 Germany and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Marcia Griffiths to the electroclash 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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo. All the underground hits.
All Marshall Jefferson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DNA 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an arpeggiator 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 guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jacques Brel,
The Names,
The United States of America,
Pere Ubu,
Archie Shepp,
Main Source,
Robert Hood,
Fat Boys,
Toni Rubio,
The Trojans,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Fuzztones,
Yellowson,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Barracudas,
The Zeros,
The Offenders,
In Retrospect,
Tropical Tobacco,
X-101,
Matthew Halsall,
Can,
Vladislav Delay,
Mo-Dettes,
Lungfish,
Quadrant,
Shuggie Otis,
Second Layer,
Rufus Thomas,
Joyce Sims,
The Divine Comedy,
Gregory Isaacs,
Junior Murvin,
the Sonics,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
June of 44,
the Fania All-Stars,
Funkadelic,
Half Japanese,
Dennis Brown,
Eddi Front,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Kinks,
Royal Trux,
8 Eyed Spy,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Be Bop Deluxe,
Bill Wells,
The Index,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Mark Hollis,
Camouflage,
Gerry Rafferty,
Cameo,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Shadows of Knight,
World's Most,
Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne.
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.