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 Poland and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Mexico City.
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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Moebius to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Jesper Dahlbäck. All the underground hits.
All Scan 7 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Donald Byrd record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a harpsichord 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 güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tropical Tobacco,
Main Source,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Flipper,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Zeros,
Faust,
Q65,
Porter Ricks,
Saccharine Trust,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Cybotron,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Chrome,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Walker Brothers,
LL Cool J,
The Residents,
E-Dancer,
X-Ray Spex,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Siglo XX,
Henry Cow,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Techniques,
Pet Shop Boys,
Soulsonic Force,
Tears for Fears,
Gichy Dan,
Underground Resistance,
Derrick Morgan,
Agitation Free,
The Slackers,
The Five Americans,
Glenn Branca,
Sun Ra,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Man Eating Sloth,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Move,
The Angels of Light,
Max Romeo,
The Red Krayola,
Scott Walker,
Q and Not U,
The Neon Judgement,
The Invisible,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Arab on Radar,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The J.B.'s,
Kurtis Blow,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The New Christs,
The Vogues,
Wire,
Los Fastidios,
Moss Icon,
Pantytec,
Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson.
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.