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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Johannesburg.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Slits to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Bootsy Collins. All the underground hits.
All The Pretty Things tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a 808 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 spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magazine,
The Offenders,
Juan Atkins,
Bill Wells,
Kool Moe Dee,
Joy Division,
Marmalade,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Rufus Thomas,
The Young Rascals,
Soft Cell,
Jawbox,
Matthew Halsall,
Susan Cadogan,
Circle Jerks,
Peter & Gordon,
Rapeman,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
CMW,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Wire,
Barrington Levy,
Mission of Burma,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Residents,
The Raincoats,
Bauhaus,
Reagan Youth,
The Associates,
Stereo Dub,
Henry Cow,
Donald Byrd,
Bronski Beat,
Au Pairs,
Suicide,
Rites of Spring,
The Last Poets,
Clear Light,
Aswad,
Mad Mike,
The Black Dice,
Frankie Knuckles,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Chris Corsano,
Monks,
The Beau Brummels,
Half Japanese,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Joensuu 1685,
The Durutti Column,
Bill Near,
Rakim,
Warsaw,
Motorama,
Godley & Creme,
Gong,
B.T. Express,
Joyce Sims,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Crooked Eye,
Neu!,
Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment.
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.