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 Nauru and from Winnipeg.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Y Pants to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Radiohead. All the underground hits.
All Mission of Burma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Juan Atkins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 chamberlin and a 808 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 rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moby Grape,
The Kinks,
Todd Rundgren,
Funky Four + One,
Dead Boys,
Mantronix,
Tubeway Army,
Ornette Coleman,
Avey Tare,
Black Pus,
Ice-T,
Archie Shepp,
Lyres,
Alice Coltrane,
Niagra,
The Five Americans,
Minor Threat,
Moss Icon,
Sam Rivers,
Wire,
Brass Construction,
Sällskapet,
Deadbeat,
Maleditus Sound,
Infiniti,
Kurtis Blow,
the Sonics,
Clear Light,
Man Eating Sloth,
Easy Going,
Parry Music,
Whodini,
Jeff Lynne,
Nation of Ulysses,
Reuben Wilson,
Wally Richardson,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Depeche Mode,
Fat Boys,
the Normal,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Index,
World's Most,
Stetsasonic,
Crispian St. Peters,
Harry Pussy,
K-Klass,
a-ha,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Arcadia,
The Durutti Column,
Dennis Brown,
Eurythmics,
Underground Resistance,
Gil Scott Heron,
Dawn Penn,
The Skatalites,
Joy Division,
Neil Young,
Soul II Soul,
Kevin Saunderson,
T.S.O.L.,
David Bowie, David Bowie, David Bowie, David Bowie.
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.