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 Austria and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud to the disco 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 Altered Images. All the underground hits.
All Kool Moe Dee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pole record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 linndrum 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 marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
K-Klass,
Ultimate Spinach,
Q and Not U,
Ultravox,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Camouflage,
Laurel Aitken,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Mary Jane Girls,
Schoolly D,
Masters at Work,
Zero Boys,
Ossler,
Sex Pistols,
DJ Style,
The Cramps,
The Gladiators,
The Names,
Sparks,
Grey Daturas,
MC5,
Leonard Cohen,
John Foxx,
Godley & Creme,
Avey Tare,
Faust,
Easy Going,
Fad Gadget,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Mission of Burma,
Cecil Taylor,
Franke,
Pantaleimon,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Quando Quango,
Fluxion,
Deepchord,
Roy Ayers,
Piero Umiliani,
Jeff Lynne,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Shadows of Knight,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Slackers,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Crispy Ambulance,
Lyres,
Harpers Bizarre,
Heaven 17,
The Durutti Column,
Soft Cell,
Dark Day,
the Association,
The Fall,
Young Marble Giants,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
cv313,
Marmalade,
Grandmaster Flash,
Motorama,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Rosa Yemen,
Unwound,
Robert Görl,
Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson.
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.