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 Eritrea and from Cairo.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The Red Krayola to the electroclash 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 Rakim. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Womack tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yellowson 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a guitar 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 mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
H. Thieme,
the Normal,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Severed Heads,
The Red Krayola,
Matthew Bourne,
Bizarre Inc.,
Surgeon,
Barry Ungar,
Jacques Brel,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Amon Düül II,
Camberwell Now,
Television Personalities,
The Neon Judgement,
The Blues Magoos,
The Real Kids,
Zero Boys,
Fat Boys,
Reuben Wilson,
Prince Buster,
Peter & Gordon,
Terrestrial Tones,
Lower 48,
Angry Samoans,
the Slits,
Desert Stars,
Lucky Dragons,
Henry Cow,
Kenny Larkin,
Beasts of Bourbon,
DNA,
The Kinks,
Al Stewart,
Funkadelic,
Index,
Bang On A Can,
The Moody Blues,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Quadrant,
The Victims,
Delta 5,
Leonard Cohen,
The Litter,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Nirvana,
Lou Christie,
Mars,
The Moleskins,
The Doobie Brothers,
Bad Manners,
Wings,
Thee Headcoats,
The Raincoats,
Tomorrow,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Ultra Naté,
Hardrive,
The Golliwogs,
Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz.
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.