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 Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 London Community Gospel Choir to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Ultramagnetic MC's. All the underground hits.
All The Velvet Underground tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thompson Twins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 guitar 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 clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rapeman,
the Association,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
T. Rex,
Janne Schatter,
Scion,
The Barracudas,
Juan Atkins,
Ituana,
New Age Steppers,
The Cramps,
Malaria!,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Loose Ends,
Quando Quango,
Donald Byrd,
Roy Ayers,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Visage,
Monolake,
Desert Stars,
The Sonics,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Curtis Mayfield,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Dead Boys,
Anthony Braxton,
Drive Like Jehu,
Gerry Rafferty,
Althea and Donna,
Lungfish,
Deepchord,
10cc,
The Litter,
Laurel Aitken,
AZ,
Lakeside,
The Gun Club,
Mo-Dettes,
Thompson Twins,
The Star Department,
the Germs,
Dawn Penn,
Pere Ubu,
The Remains,
Nils Olav,
B.T. Express,
John Coltrane,
The Smoke,
Amon Düül,
The Slackers,
The Associates,
Tomorrow,
The Seeds,
Kaleidoscope,
the Human League,
Bronski Beat,
Barrington Levy,
Bill Wells,
Flipper, Flipper, Flipper, Flipper.
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.