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 Jamaica and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Winnipeg.
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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 EPMD to the techno 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 Fela Kuti. All the underground hits.
All Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sugar Minott record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar 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 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arcadia,
Ponytail,
Guru Guru,
Sam Rivers,
Popol Vuh,
The Techniques,
Camouflage,
Smog,
Leonard Cohen,
The Sound,
The Skatalites,
Henry Cow,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
H. Thieme,
Byron Stingily,
June of 44,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Rekid,
The Divine Comedy,
T.S.O.L.,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Neu!,
Inner City,
Moebius,
The Modern Lovers,
The Doobie Brothers,
Cymande,
Donny Hathaway,
China Crisis,
Flipper,
Reagan Youth,
Soulsonic Force,
Erasure,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Gil Scott Heron,
Crispy Ambulance,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Gang Starr,
Peter & Gordon,
Pussy Galore,
Nico,
The Blues Magoos,
the Germs,
Grey Daturas,
The Saints,
Tomorrow,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Hardrive,
Groovy Waters,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Vladislav Delay,
Harmonia,
Nils Olav,
The Misunderstood,
Gregory Isaacs,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Bang On A Can,
The Fire Engines,
Public Image Ltd.,
Accadde A, Accadde A, Accadde A, Accadde A.
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.