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 Kenya and from Tehran.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 DJ Sneak to the rock 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 Rhythim Is Rhythim. All the underground hits.
All Brass Construction tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin 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 an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harpers Bizarre,
Subhumans,
The Evens,
Sound Behaviour,
Chrome,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Rhythm & Sound,
Johnny Clarke,
Black Moon,
Albert Ayler,
Moby Grape,
Y Pants,
The Standells,
Rufus Thomas,
48th St. Collective,
ABC,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Names,
The Five Americans,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
a-ha,
U.S. Maple,
Idris Muhammad,
Sällskapet,
The Fortunes,
Todd Rundgren,
Steve Hackett,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Martian,
The Invisible,
Fat Boys,
Saccharine Trust,
Unwound,
Eric B and Rakim,
Brothers Johnson,
Scott Walker,
Lower 48,
Banda Bassotti,
The Human League,
The Associates,
Half Japanese,
Vainqueur,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Red Krayola,
EPMD,
Jesper Dahlback,
Schoolly D,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Monks,
Dorothy Ashby,
Monolake,
Moss Icon,
Quadrant,
Amon Düül,
Matthew Halsall,
David Bowie,
Gang Green,
Drive Like Jehu,
Sun Ra,
Faraquet,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
the Normal, the Normal, the Normal, the Normal.
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.