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 Turkey and from Bremen.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba 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 Sound Behaviour to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Average White Band. All the underground hits.
All Camberwell Now tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sandy B 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a synthesizer 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 theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Buzzcocks,
The Alarm Clocks,
It's A Beautiful Day,
H. Thieme,
Slave,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Unrelated Segments,
Model 500,
Gabor Szabo,
Bob Dylan,
Dead Boys,
Flash Fearless,
The Human League,
the Bar-Kays,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Nik Kershaw,
Steve Hackett,
Cameo,
Sällskapet,
Shuggie Otis,
The Doobie Brothers,
Fifty Foot Hose,
China Crisis,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Symarip,
The Smoke,
Khruangbin,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Toni Rubio,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Aswad,
Tim Buckley,
Ossler,
Matthew Bourne,
Freddie Wadling,
The Index,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Gastr Del Sol,
Lucky Dragons,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Television Personalities,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
JFA,
Dennis Brown,
kango's stein massive,
Maurizio,
Radiopuhelimet,
Patti Smith,
Kerri Chandler,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Happenings,
Barbara Tucker,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Cybotron,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Kerrie Biddell,
Babytalk,
B.T. Express,
Cluster,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Dirtbombs,
The Walker Brothers,
Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken.
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.