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 Sudan and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Gerry Rafferty to the jazz 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 Lungfish. All the underground hits.
All the Soft Cell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Richard Hell and the Voidoids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a rhodes 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 linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott Heron,
Roxy Music,
Alton Ellis,
Black Flag,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Hardrive,
Cybotron,
Gang Gang Dance,
Sexual Harrassment,
Parry Music,
The Pop Group,
Janne Schatter,
Trumans Water,
Gichy Dan,
Animal Collective,
China Crisis,
James White and The Blacks,
Pantaleimon,
Los Fastidios,
Marvin Gaye,
Carl Craig,
Joensuu 1685,
Cluster,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Skarface,
These Immortal Souls,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Wolf Eyes,
Robert Görl,
Organ,
Roxette,
Fatback Band,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Whodini,
X-Ray Spex,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Morten Harket,
Can,
Harry Pussy,
the Association,
The Martian,
Angry Samoans,
The American Breed,
Soft Cell,
Oblivians,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Sixth Finger,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Pierre Henry,
Freddie Wadling,
The Tremeloes,
Eden Ahbez,
The Neon Judgement,
Lebanon Hanover,
Wings,
The Doobie Brothers,
Slave,
Quadrant,
John Holt,
Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra.
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.