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 Libya and from Woodstock.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 The Birthday Party to the rap 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 Sparks. All the underground hits.
All The Gun Club tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thompson Twins 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a spring reverb 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 an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David Axelrod,
Bob Dylan,
Hashim,
Crooked Eye,
Sugar Minott,
Lou Christie,
Little Man,
Alison Limerick,
Kurtis Blow,
Nation of Ulysses,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Desert Stars,
Liliput,
Agent Orange,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Nirvana,
These Immortal Souls,
Gichy Dan,
Man Eating Sloth,
Cheater Slicks,
Scion,
KRS-One,
The New Christs,
Monks,
Lungfish,
Sixth Finger,
Icehouse,
The Last Poets,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Durutti Column,
Pierre Henry,
Make Up,
Country Teasers,
Stockholm Monsters,
Bobby Sherman,
The Trojans,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Glambeats Corp.,
Visage,
Eric B and Rakim,
In Retrospect,
Glenn Branca,
H. Thieme,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Searchers,
One Last Wish,
Mantronix,
Aural Exciters,
Skarface,
Stiv Bators,
Thee Headcoats,
Bad Manners,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
F. McDonald,
Lou Reed,
Fluxion,
Quando Quango,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Reuben Wilson,
The Modern Lovers,
Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles.
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.