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 Latvia and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Man Eating Sloth to the disco 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 JFA. All the underground hits.
All John Cale tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blossom Toes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb 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 sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David Bowie,
Skriet,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Suburban Knight,
Reagan Youth,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Selecter,
Circle Jerks,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Brick,
Tomorrow,
Brothers Johnson,
Slave,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Boredoms,
Al Stewart,
Lakeside,
Jeff Mills,
Fluxion,
Marvin Gaye,
Cecil Taylor,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Cramps,
Stiv Bators,
Agent Orange,
the Fania All-Stars,
Gang Gang Dance,
Fat Boys,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The United States of America,
Amon Düül II,
Aural Exciters,
Clear Light,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Audionom,
Idris Muhammad,
The Velvet Underground,
The Wake,
Jawbox,
Subhumans,
The Kinks,
ABC,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Bang On A Can,
Fatback Band,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Fugs,
Motorama,
The Leaves,
Leonard Cohen,
The Knickerbockers,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Grandmaster Flash,
Chrome,
Colin Newman,
Big Daddy Kane,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
the Association,
Average White Band, Average White Band, Average White Band, Average White Band.
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.