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 Haiti and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Dirtbombs to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 a-ha. All the underground hits.
All Motorama tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Saccharine Trust record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Q and Not U record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Charles Mingus,
Gastr Del Sol,
Spoonie Gee,
Das Ding,
The Martian,
Rhythm & Sound,
Pharoah Sanders,
48th St. Collective,
Eric Dolphy,
Public Image Ltd.,
KRS-One,
Cluster,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Kayak,
Skaos,
Second Layer,
Mary Jane Girls,
Metal Thangz,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Robert Hood,
The Electric Prunes,
Fatback Band,
The Kinks,
Faraquet,
Harpers Bizarre,
June of 44,
L. Decosne,
Jawbox,
Brand Nubian,
Marc Almond,
Nico,
Gang of Four,
Peter and Kerry,
Derrick May,
Youth Brigade,
Masters at Work,
Traffic Nightmare,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Fluxion,
The Real Kids,
London Community Gospel Choir,
H. Thieme,
The Fugs,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
World's Most,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Tres Demented,
Eyeless In Gaza,
the Association,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Chrome,
Crime,
Hot Snakes,
Blancmange,
X-Ray Spex,
Clear Light,
Severed Heads,
E-Dancer,
Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich.
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.