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 Burundi and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 K-Klass to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 A Certain Ratio. All the underground hits.
All Gerry Rafferty tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Carl Craig record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 marimba and a sitar 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 oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flipper,
X-101,
Lungfish,
the Germs,
David Axelrod,
Kerri Chandler,
Matthew Halsall,
Black Sheep,
Bobby Hutcherson,
John Coltrane,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Boogie Down Productions,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Excepter,
Joyce Sims,
Patti Smith,
The Knickerbockers,
The Blues Magoos,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Vladislav Delay,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Bizarre Inc.,
Rosa Yemen,
Ornette Coleman,
Con Funk Shun,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Black Pus,
Cluster,
Nils Olav,
Joey Negro,
Arthur Verocai,
Circle Jerks,
Reagan Youth,
Wire,
Todd Rundgren,
The Saints,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Symarip,
The Wake,
Piero Umiliani,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Little Man,
The J.B.'s,
The Buckinghams,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Don Cherry,
Roxette,
The Invisible,
Visage,
EPMD,
Marcia Griffiths,
Glambeats Corp.,
Deadbeat,
Stereo Dub,
H. Thieme,
Fugazi,
Barrington Levy,
Terrestrial Tones,
Derrick May,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
48th St. Collective,
The Slits,
Eddi Front, Eddi Front, Eddi Front, Eddi Front.
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.