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 France and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Accra.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Men They Couldn't Hang to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Blancmange. All the underground hits.
All Visage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aural Exciters 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin 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 organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Second Layer,
Outsiders,
Mandrill,
The Smiths,
Index,
Curtis Mayfield,
Interpol,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Tremeloes,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Scott Walker,
Make Up,
Sexual Harrassment,
the Germs,
Eddi Front,
Sparks,
Terry Callier,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
X-Ray Spex,
Steve Hackett,
China Crisis,
Charles Mingus,
10cc,
Hardrive,
Silicon Teens,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Idris Muhammad,
Parry Music,
Minor Threat,
The Fire Engines,
Funky Four + One,
Moss Icon,
Sound Behaviour,
Basic Channel,
Inner City,
The Dave Clark Five,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Soul II Soul,
kango's stein massive,
The Standells,
Smog,
Circle Jerks,
Amon Düül,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Dennis Brown,
the Human League,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Hashim,
The Invisible,
Black Flag,
Scan 7,
PIL,
EPMD,
Trumans Water,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Big Daddy Kane,
Section 25,
K-Klass,
MC5,
Malaria!,
Slave, Slave, Slave, Slave.
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.