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 Japan and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Rahsaan Roland Kirk 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 Theoretical Girls. All the underground hits.
All Schoolly D tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Archie Shepp record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb 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 sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Golliwogs,
John Foxx,
John Coltrane,
The Five Americans,
the Swans,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
B.T. Express,
Heaven 17,
Bobby Sherman,
The Knickerbockers,
Fela Kuti,
Index,
Boogie Down Productions,
U.S. Maple,
Barbara Tucker,
Black Moon,
Duran Duran,
Anakelly,
John Cale,
The Barracudas,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Icehouse,
Funky Four + One,
The Leaves,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Lyres,
Man Parrish,
Bizarre Inc.,
the Association,
Yusef Lateef,
Pharoah Sanders,
Connie Case,
Bush Tetras,
Pussy Galore,
Alison Limerick,
Big Daddy Kane,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Fire Engines,
Godley & Creme,
The Selecter,
Basic Channel,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Ossler,
Mark Hollis,
Fat Boys,
Tomorrow,
Sound Behaviour,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Offenders,
Ultravox,
Yellowson,
Hoover,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Pulsallama,
Marmalade,
A Certain Ratio,
Underground Resistance,
Excepter,
Drive Like Jehu,
Massinfluence, Massinfluence, Massinfluence, Massinfluence.
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.