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 Uruguay and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Mission of Burma to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 PIL. All the underground hits.
All Index tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Foxx record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a marimba 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 spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
PIL,
Excepter,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Tim Buckley,
Metal Thangz,
K-Klass,
The Fuzztones,
Newcleus,
Rufus Thomas,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Inner City,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Litter,
T.S.O.L.,
Pere Ubu,
Soul II Soul,
Jawbox,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Alice Coltrane,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Dead C,
Con Funk Shun,
Fela Kuti,
Donny Hathaway,
Index,
Prince Buster,
Harpers Bizarre,
Amon Düül II,
James White and The Blacks,
Todd Terry,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
T. Rex,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
ABBA,
Public Enemy,
Black Bananas,
Moebius,
The Smoke,
The Dirtbombs,
The Seeds,
Heaven 17,
Magazine,
New Age Steppers,
The Associates,
Pussy Galore,
Arab on Radar,
John Coltrane,
the Fania All-Stars,
Shuggie Otis,
Slick Rick,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Shadows of Knight,
Circle Jerks,
Piero Umiliani,
Rosa Yemen,
Procol Harum,
Marmalade,
Yusef Lateef,
Rhythm & Sound,
Byron Stingily,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
John Holt, John Holt, John Holt, John Holt.
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.