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 Samoa and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 linndrum 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 Deadbeat to the electroclash 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 Fela Kuti. All the underground hits.
All Arthur Verocai tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every June of 44 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an oboe 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 sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar 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 Moody Blues,
Anthony Braxton,
Bill Wells,
Man Parrish,
These Immortal Souls,
Nas,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Lakeside,
Jeff Lynne,
The Smiths,
The Cramps,
Half Japanese,
Chris & Cosey,
DNA,
Cluster,
Electric Prunes,
Jeff Mills,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Blackbyrds,
La Düsseldorf,
the Normal,
The Litter,
Sällskapet,
FM Einheit,
Barbara Tucker,
Drexciya,
The Real Kids,
Lindisfarne,
Model 500,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Fall,
Sandy B,
Second Layer,
cv313,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Young Rascals,
Ludus,
Don Cherry,
Todd Rundgren,
Cybotron,
Swans,
Grey Daturas,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Detroit Cobras,
H. Thieme,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Siglo XX,
Royal Trux,
Stereo Dub,
Hasil Adkins,
Johnny Clarke,
Symarip,
Popol Vuh,
Agent Orange,
the Fania All-Stars,
UT,
Average White Band,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Desert Stars,
Parry Music,
Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth.
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.