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 Mexico and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 Stockholm and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 MC5 to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Rites of Spring. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terry Callier record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a clarinet 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 rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Vogues,
Moby Grape,
Pantytec,
Porter Ricks,
the Slits,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Robert Wyatt,
Sister Nancy,
Kas Product,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Pole,
Eurythmics,
Avey Tare,
Tomorrow,
Tres Demented,
Minor Threat,
Gregory Isaacs,
Los Fastidios,
Skarface,
Dual Sessions,
James White and The Blacks,
Ornette Coleman,
Max Romeo,
Pere Ubu,
Inner City,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Brothers Johnson,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Yazoo,
The Red Krayola,
Funkadelic,
Sun City Girls,
Susan Cadogan,
Rites of Spring,
Charles Mingus,
Glambeats Corp.,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Bobby Womack,
Duran Duran,
Rod Modell,
Adolescents,
Sugar Minott,
Davy DMX,
Don Cherry,
Aural Exciters,
Goldenarms,
Archie Shepp,
Henry Cow,
Pet Shop Boys,
Tim Buckley,
Youth Brigade,
Judy Mowatt,
Guru Guru,
Iggy Pop,
Gong,
Soulsonic Force,
Jeff Mills,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Brick,
The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters.
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.