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 Jamaica and from Delhi.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Skaos to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Cure. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker + Sunn O))) tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neil Young 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a snare 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 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Girls At Our Best!,
Fatback Band,
Grandmaster Flash,
Ultra Naté,
Lungfish,
Siglo XX,
Amon Düül II,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Neon Judgement,
X-Ray Spex,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Toni Rubio,
Dorothy Ashby,
MC5,
Prince Buster,
Cal Tjader,
The Victims,
The Moleskins,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Freddie Wadling,
Section 25,
The Smoke,
The Red Krayola,
Barry Ungar,
Dawn Penn,
Nico,
Quadrant,
The Five Americans,
Funky Four + One,
Godley & Creme,
Saccharine Trust,
Gabor Szabo,
Soul II Soul,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
D'Angelo,
Clear Light,
The Misunderstood,
Lalann,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Nik Kershaw,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Quantec,
John Lydon,
Oneida,
The Black Dice,
Pulsallama,
Popol Vuh,
Can,
Circle Jerks,
Gichy Dan,
Curtis Mayfield,
Soul Sonic Force,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Von Mondo,
Kenny Larkin,
Radio Birdman,
Hot Snakes,
The Star Department,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Moody Blues,
Gil Scott Heron,
Maleditus Sound,
Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore.
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.