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 India and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 arpeggiator 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 Frankie Knuckles to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 MC5. All the underground hits.
All Idris Muhammad tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every A Flock of Seagulls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 a marimba and a synthesizer 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 organ and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minnie Riperton,
Unrelated Segments,
Joensuu 1685,
Mad Mike,
Gichy Dan,
Don Cherry,
The Mummies,
Mars,
Simply Red,
Glenn Branca,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Flash Fearless,
Connie Case,
Tres Demented,
The Sound,
Kaleidoscope,
Flamin' Groovies,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Smiths,
Maleditus Sound,
PIL,
Moby Grape,
Inner City,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
David McCallum,
Severed Heads,
Gang Starr,
Mark Hollis,
Idris Muhammad,
Public Enemy,
Graham Central Station,
Black Flag,
Bang On A Can,
Lebanon Hanover,
Subhumans,
Jacques Brel,
Swans,
Malaria!,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
the Human League,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Theoretical Girls,
Terry Callier,
Traffic Nightmare,
Spoonie Gee,
The Stooges,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Johnny Osbourne,
Television Personalities,
Von Mondo,
Darondo,
FM Einheit,
Matthew Halsall,
Bush Tetras,
The Motions,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sonic Youth,
Arab on Radar,
The Kinks,
Tommy Roe,
Outsiders,
Skarface, Skarface, Skarface, Skarface.
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.