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 Malawi and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Edmonton.
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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Sight & Sound to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Germs. All the underground hits.
All the Slits tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ossler record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an arpeggiator and a theremin 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 guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brick,
Shoche,
Bang On A Can,
Graham Central Station,
June Days,
Agent Orange,
Rekid,
Pere Ubu,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Thee Headcoats,
The Dead C,
Wally Richardson,
T. Rex,
the Bar-Kays,
Matthew Bourne,
Joyce Sims,
the Soft Cell,
Panda Bear,
Stetsasonic,
Lakeside,
Deadbeat,
Nils Olav,
Johnny Clarke,
World's Most,
The New Christs,
Quadrant,
The Toasters,
Scientists,
Suicide,
Crooked Eye,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Pet Shop Boys,
a-ha,
Skaos,
cv313,
The Fire Engines,
Soul II Soul,
Wire,
Junior Murvin,
New Order,
F. McDonald,
Saccharine Trust,
Carl Craig,
This Heat,
The Saints,
Roxette,
Susan Cadogan,
Von Mondo,
Interpol,
Camberwell Now,
Bob Dylan,
DJ Sneak,
The Alarm Clocks,
Marmalade,
Mars,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Girls At Our Best!,
Donny Hathaway,
Television,
Outsiders,
Byron Stingily,
The Index,
Marshall Jefferson,
Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work.
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.