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 Uruguay and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Gong to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 8 Eyed Spy. All the underground hits.
All Amazonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pussy Galore record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a güiro 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 clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
48th St. Collective,
Royal Trux,
Matthew Halsall,
Pylon,
the Swans,
Al Stewart,
June Days,
Delta 5,
Avey Tare,
The Seeds,
Scion,
John Foxx,
Flamin' Groovies,
Television Personalities,
The Cowsills,
Janne Schatter,
U.S. Maple,
Throbbing Gristle,
Y Pants,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Human League,
David McCallum,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Nation of Ulysses,
In Retrospect,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Cure,
Amazonics,
Loose Ends,
Mr. Review,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Bobby Womack,
Nas,
Urselle,
Black Sheep,
Public Enemy,
Ronan,
The Gladiators,
The Velvet Underground,
Monks,
Darondo,
Jesper Dahlback,
Marmalade,
Leonard Cohen,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Mummies,
Rites of Spring,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Althea and Donna,
Minnie Riperton,
The Count Five,
Groovy Waters,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Magma,
The Monks,
Rhythm & Sound,
Pharoah Sanders,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Kinks,
Donald Byrd,
Aswad, Aswad, Aswad, Aswad.
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.