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 Micronesia and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the güiro 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 Funky Four + One to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Unrelated Segments. All the underground hits.
All Fad Gadget tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amon Düül 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a spring reverb 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 chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Underground Resistance,
the Germs,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Radiopuhelimet,
Lower 48,
Oneida,
Blancmange,
Iggy Pop,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Minor Threat,
Al Stewart,
Dead Boys,
Crispy Ambulance,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Piero Umiliani,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Kinks,
Kool Moe Dee,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Black Dice,
Moby Grape,
Roger Hodgson,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Kerrie Biddell,
June Days,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Interpol,
Johnny Osbourne,
X-101,
Organ,
Accadde A,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Ronnie Foster,
the Fania All-Stars,
Drive Like Jehu,
Make Up,
Rosa Yemen,
Swell Maps,
Archie Shepp,
Henry Cow,
Cecil Taylor,
Jeff Lynne,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Ken Boothe,
Urselle,
Leonard Cohen,
John Lydon,
Inner City,
Donald Byrd,
Toni Rubio,
Negative Approach,
The Happenings,
Audionom,
Black Moon,
Marvin Gaye,
Goldenarms,
Soul Sonic Force,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Tres Demented,
The Offenders,
Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle.
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.