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 Mozambique and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Gil Scott Heron to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Black Pus. All the underground hits.
All Jawbox tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Martian record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 808 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 chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Reuben Wilson,
Babytalk,
Japan,
John Foxx,
Ohio Players,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Derrick Morgan,
Pierre Henry,
Derrick May,
The Real Kids,
Laurel Aitken,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Fela Kuti,
Ponytail,
New Order,
Eli Mardock,
Barclay James Harvest,
Patti Smith,
Fatback Band,
the Fania All-Stars,
Soulsonic Force,
Ultra Naté,
Tom Boy,
Los Fastidios,
Supertramp,
X-102,
Scott Walker,
Pylon,
Rufus Thomas,
Ultravox,
Heaven 17,
Accadde A,
Eurythmics,
Rosa Yemen,
Panda Bear,
Black Pus,
Pere Ubu,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Boredoms,
Monolake,
Flash Fearless,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Jeff Mills,
Infiniti,
World's Most,
OOIOO,
Alice Coltrane,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Ituana,
Das Ding,
10cc,
Little Man,
Bizarre Inc.,
Johnny Clarke,
Liliput,
Erykah Badu,
Bootsy Collins,
Essential Logic,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Inner City,
Electric Prunes,
The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings.
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.