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 Antigua and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Andrew Hill to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Gang Gang Dance. All the underground hits.
All Saccharine Trust tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Detroit Cobras 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 clarinet and a marimba 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 marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moebius,
The Human League,
Stiv Bators,
Robert Wyatt,
The Five Americans,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Offenders,
Albert Ayler,
Freddie Wadling,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Matthew Halsall,
Shuggie Otis,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Rotary Connection,
Au Pairs,
The Fuzztones,
Johnny Clarke,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Ornette Coleman,
The Martian,
Pierre Henry,
Ludus,
The Monks,
Nick Fraelich,
Sandy B,
New York Dolls,
Audionom,
The Red Krayola,
U.S. Maple,
The Modern Lovers,
AZ,
Monolake,
Parry Music,
X-Ray Spex,
The Pretty Things,
Chris Corsano,
Quadrant,
Minutemen,
Neu!,
Main Source,
The Real Kids,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Litter,
Massinfluence,
Rhythm & Sound,
Eric Dolphy,
Oneida,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Surgeon,
Sugar Minott,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
DJ Sneak,
Model 500,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Yaz,
Reagan Youth,
Sun City Girls,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Unwound, Unwound, Unwound, Unwound.
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.