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 Mexico and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the sitar 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 B.T. Express to the jazz 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 The Index. All the underground hits.
All Erykah Badu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Doors record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a snare 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 theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Trojans,
The Fuzztones,
Bobby Sherman,
Mary Jane Girls,
Davy DMX,
Hasil Adkins,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Yazoo,
Brand Nubian,
Harmonia,
Joy Division,
Barrington Levy,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Con Funk Shun,
Roy Ayers,
Silicon Teens,
Bush Tetras,
The Toasters,
Jimmy McGriff,
Robert Hood,
Danielle Patucci,
Surgeon,
Bill Wells,
Electric Prunes,
Letta Mbulu,
Au Pairs,
Erasure,
X-101,
The Tremeloes,
The Motions,
Johnny Clarke,
X-Ray Spex,
Albert Ayler,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
the Soft Cell,
Unrelated Segments,
L. Decosne,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Sam Rivers,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Neil Young,
The Smiths,
The J.B.'s,
Siglo XX,
Aural Exciters,
Fela Kuti,
Shoche,
Blossom Toes,
Oneida,
Dead Boys,
the Normal,
Soul II Soul,
The Blues Magoos,
Bluetip,
Chrome,
Simply Red,
Y Pants,
Eli Mardock,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms.
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.