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 Venezuela and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the marimba 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 The Knickerbockers to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Amon Düül II. All the underground hits.
All Spandau Ballet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pet Shop Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 an oboe and a harpsichord 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 sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Mary Jane Girls,
World's Most,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lower 48,
Danielle Patucci,
Jeff Mills,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Khruangbin,
Severed Heads,
Icehouse,
The Move,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Slick Rick,
Harpers Bizarre,
Accadde A,
The Smoke,
Tubeway Army,
Young Marble Giants,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Pussy Galore,
Cymande,
The Modern Lovers,
Rufus Thomas,
Radio Birdman,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Grass Roots,
Gregory Isaacs,
Bobby Womack,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Mars,
Janne Schatter,
Robert Hood,
Soul II Soul,
The Index,
This Heat,
The J.B.'s,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Piero Umiliani,
Unrelated Segments,
The Monks,
Sexual Harrassment,
Grey Daturas,
Hoover,
Graham Central Station,
Fatback Band,
Rakim,
Y Pants,
John Cale,
Dark Day,
Steve Hackett,
Letta Mbulu,
Fear,
DJ Sneak,
Little Man,
Grauzone,
Todd Terry,
Minor Threat,
Kayak, Kayak, Kayak, Kayak.
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.