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 Kiribati and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Wire show in Watford.
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 Manchester and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ 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 Brass Construction to the grunge 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 Yellowson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a synthesizer 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 a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Model 500,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Ice-T,
Quando Quango,
Susan Cadogan,
Blake Baxter,
ABC,
Fatback Band,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Babytalk,
Maurizio,
The Moody Blues,
Jandek,
Amazonics,
Byron Stingily,
Sonic Youth,
The Index,
The Monochrome Set,
The Leaves,
The Moleskins,
Subhumans,
Sam Rivers,
Lakeside,
T. Rex,
The Real Kids,
Lou Reed,
Terry Callier,
Wally Richardson,
Cheater Slicks,
Grey Daturas,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Mantronix,
Roxette,
FM Einheit,
LL Cool J,
Kerri Chandler,
Dorothy Ashby,
John Cale,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Fuzztones,
Basic Channel,
Ultra Naté,
Radio Birdman,
Mark Hollis,
Zapp,
Trumans Water,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Sugar Minott,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Cymande,
Bush Tetras,
Cecil Taylor,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Nico,
Big Daddy Kane,
These Immortal Souls,
Supertramp,
Eric Dolphy,
PIL,
The Skatalites,
Tears for Fears,
Bootsy Collins,
Morten Harket, Morten Harket, Morten Harket, Morten Harket.
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.