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 Turkey and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 spring reverb 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 Essential Logic to the techno 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 Cheater Slicks. All the underground hits.
All Black Sheep tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minnie Riperton record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an arpeggiator 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 marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
CMW,
The Seeds,
ABC,
Metal Thangz,
Duran Duran,
The Monks,
Shoche,
Barry Ungar,
Junior Murvin,
Pet Shop Boys,
Crispian St. Peters,
Pulsallama,
Youth Brigade,
Whodini,
Fear,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Fuzztones,
Sparks,
Scrapy,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Residents,
Bad Manners,
The Five Americans,
X-101,
Khruangbin,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Ludus,
OOIOO,
Byron Stingily,
Joe Smooth,
Rekid,
Minnie Riperton,
Prince Buster,
Dark Day,
Skriet,
The Associates,
Magazine,
Lightning Bolt,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Roxy Music,
Half Japanese,
Moebius,
John Foxx,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Ohio Players,
Toni Rubio,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Flamin' Groovies,
a-ha,
Robert Görl,
Scion,
Sun Ra,
Neu!,
Sandy B,
Throbbing Gristle,
Lee Hazlewood,
Bootsy Collins,
Glambeats Corp.,
KRS-One,
Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne.
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.