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 Swaziland and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Glambeats Corp. to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Pere Ubu. All the underground hits.
All Anthony Braxton tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ituana record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba 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 harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fall,
Hot Snakes,
Easy Going,
Los Fastidios,
Crooked Eye,
Erasure,
48th St. Collective,
Panda Bear,
Slave,
Q and Not U,
Pole,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Au Pairs,
The Toasters,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Associates,
Bill Wells,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Josef K,
Darondo,
Kaleidoscope,
The Angels of Light,
The Moleskins,
Gabor Szabo,
Rites of Spring,
Lindisfarne,
Cheater Slicks,
Suburban Knight,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Deadbeat,
Agent Orange,
Janne Schatter,
Arthur Verocai,
Curtis Mayfield,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Barrington Levy,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Amon Düül,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Black Bananas,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Residents,
Mission of Burma,
Mark Hollis,
Harry Pussy,
Neu!,
Massinfluence,
James Chance & The Contortions,
UT,
The Standells,
Interpol,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Tears for Fears,
Joyce Sims,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Stooges,
Susan Cadogan,
Average White Band,
Brand Nubian,
Royal Trux,
Connie Case,
Zapp, Zapp, Zapp, Zapp.
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.