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 New Zealand and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Sonics to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Ohio Players. All the underground hits.
All The Count Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Reuben Wilson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 theremin and a sitar 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 theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ice-T,
Lee Hazlewood,
Pantytec,
Soulsonic Force,
Sonny Sharrock,
Arcadia,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Suicide,
Wire,
Black Sheep,
David McCallum,
Q65,
Rufus Thomas,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Count Five,
The New Christs,
Fifty Foot Hose,
H. Thieme,
The Gories,
The Knickerbockers,
The Real Kids,
Iggy Pop,
Supertramp,
D'Angelo,
Eric B and Rakim,
Massinfluence,
Average White Band,
Harpers Bizarre,
Brick,
The Moody Blues,
Camouflage,
Magma,
Smog,
Juan Atkins,
Alphaville,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Howard Jones,
Pole,
Royal Trux,
John Lydon,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sparks,
Al Stewart,
Sex Pistols,
Con Funk Shun,
Peter and Kerry,
Nation of Ulysses,
UT,
Jawbox,
Bluetip,
Interpol,
The Mummies,
Public Image Ltd.,
Wally Richardson,
ABBA,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Sound Behaviour,
Idris Muhammad,
The Stooges,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks.
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.