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 Nepal and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Red Krayola to the dance 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 Roxette. All the underground hits.
All Magma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Little Man 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nick Fraelich record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Curtis Mayfield,
Pussy Galore,
Anakelly,
Skarface,
Rotary Connection,
Au Pairs,
The Vogues,
Arthur Verocai,
John Holt,
Bang On A Can,
Agitation Free,
Rites of Spring,
Vladislav Delay,
The Slackers,
The Doobie Brothers,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Ludus,
Sex Pistols,
Arcadia,
Kayak,
Yellowson,
June Days,
David Bowie,
Pole,
The Fortunes,
Franke,
Soft Machine,
Soul II Soul,
Crispy Ambulance,
Man Parrish,
Henry Cow,
The Last Poets,
Donald Byrd,
Flash Fearless,
Parry Music,
Susan Cadogan,
Qualms,
Skaos,
The Golliwogs,
Electric Prunes,
Lalann,
Bush Tetras,
The Leaves,
Iggy Pop,
Al Stewart,
Niagra,
Trumans Water,
Zero Boys,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Negative Approach,
Chrome,
Adolescents,
Fugazi,
Fort Wilson Riot,
ABBA,
R.M.O.,
Jimmy McGriff,
Ralphi Rosario,
Absolute Body Control,
the Sonics,
Hot Snakes,
DNA, DNA, DNA, DNA.
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.