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 East Timor and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Jerry's Kids 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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All The Trojans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Althea and Donna record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a theremin 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 clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tommy Roe,
Jacob Miller,
The Kinks,
The Cosmic Jokers,
DJ Sneak,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Colin Newman,
Cal Tjader,
The Seeds,
Robert Görl,
Aaron Thompson,
Pulsallama,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Suicide,
Mantronix,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Bob Dylan,
Spandau Ballet,
Stereo Dub,
Organ,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Young Rascals,
Freddie Wadling,
Moss Icon,
Marshall Jefferson,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Music Machine,
John Foxx,
Hoover,
Animal Collective,
Swell Maps,
The Techniques,
Rotary Connection,
Gang Starr,
Nas,
the Fania All-Stars,
Moebius,
H. Thieme,
Drexciya,
Rapeman,
Davy DMX,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Aswad,
The Cramps,
Blossom Toes,
The Divine Comedy,
The Mummies,
Flamin' Groovies,
Silicon Teens,
The Velvet Underground,
a-ha,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Vogues,
Gong,
Barbara Tucker,
The Mighty Diamonds,
John Lydon,
48th St. Collective,
Kas Product,
UT,
The New Christs,
The Blues Magoos,
The Slits, The Slits, The Slits, The Slits.
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.