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 Seychelles and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the electroclash 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 Frankie Knuckles. All the underground hits.
All In Retrospect tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barbara Tucker record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a guitar 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 guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Doobie Brothers,
The Smoke,
Anthony Braxton,
Eric Dolphy,
Peter & Gordon,
Babytalk,
Yaz,
Rosa Yemen,
Gang Gang Dance,
Urselle,
Radiohead,
Country Teasers,
Sandy B,
Kenny Larkin,
Nico,
Tom Boy,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Moby Grape,
Lakeside,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Jacques Brel,
James White and The Blacks,
Patti Smith,
Main Source,
Agent Orange,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Buzzcocks,
Pole,
Little Man,
Harry Pussy,
Fluxion,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
John Coltrane,
the Slits,
The Golliwogs,
Interpol,
Wasted Youth,
Camberwell Now,
Nas,
Bauhaus,
Skriet,
Robert Görl,
Kaleidoscope,
The Busters,
FM Einheit,
Fugazi,
Cluster,
Y Pants,
Ten City,
Sister Nancy,
Curtis Mayfield,
Johnny Osbourne,
Jacob Miller,
Idris Muhammad,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Gabor Szabo,
John Foxx,
Drexciya,
Eurythmics,
Eric B and Rakim,
Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans.
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.