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 Ukraine and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Cecil Taylor to the rap 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 R.M.O.. All the underground hits.
All Joy Division tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Bananas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 a guitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deadbeat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
World's Most,
Robert Hood,
The Angels of Light,
Gil Scott Heron,
Lalann,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Fat Boys,
Marmalade,
Television,
the Bar-Kays,
Curtis Mayfield,
Sun City Girls,
The Blues Magoos,
Au Pairs,
The Modern Lovers,
The Fuzztones,
Bauhaus,
Country Teasers,
Sex Pistols,
Freddie Wadling,
Man Parrish,
Ossler,
Supertramp,
Sixth Finger,
Alice Coltrane,
Lindisfarne,
Wire,
The Dead C,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Model 500,
Little Man,
Japan,
Goldenarms,
Marine Girls,
Accadde A,
In Retrospect,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Unwound,
Godley & Creme,
Ituana,
Scratch Acid,
Davy DMX,
Sound Behaviour,
Newcleus,
Slick Rick,
Roy Ayers,
Schoolly D,
One Last Wish,
Surgeon,
Soul II Soul,
Chrome,
Barbara Tucker,
Y Pants,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Eddi Front,
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.