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 Azerbaijan and from Mumbai.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 the Bar-Kays to the crunk 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 The Smiths. All the underground hits.
All Wire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Pretty Things record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 mellotron and an organ 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 chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Vogues,
ABC,
Joey Negro,
Saccharine Trust,
Spoonie Gee,
Groovy Waters,
The Litter,
H. Thieme,
Piero Umiliani,
Eden Ahbez,
Qualms,
Fat Boys,
Shuggie Otis,
Alison Limerick,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Letta Mbulu,
The Dead C,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Rakim,
David Bowie,
The Cramps,
Moss Icon,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Maurizio,
New Order,
The Cure,
Aural Exciters,
In Retrospect,
PIL,
Royal Trux,
The Motions,
The Index,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Barry Ungar,
Depeche Mode,
Quando Quango,
Gregory Isaacs,
Bootsy Collins,
The Techniques,
Spandau Ballet,
Agitation Free,
Average White Band,
Bush Tetras,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Pylon,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Camberwell Now,
The Skatalites,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
L. Decosne,
Eric B and Rakim,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Rapeman,
Roger Hodgson,
Dual Sessions,
Grauzone,
Lakeside,
Ituana,
The Raincoats,
Siglo XX,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus.
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.