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 Czech Republic and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Wire show in Watford.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the güiro 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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 the Germs. All the underground hits.
All Bang On A Can tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Peter & Gordon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-Ray Spex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Moebius,
cv313,
Electric Prunes,
Dawn Penn,
Bluetip,
Joe Smooth,
Bobby Byrd,
The Happenings,
Erykah Badu,
The Doobie Brothers,
Al Stewart,
Television Personalities,
Unwound,
Swans,
Frankie Knuckles,
Nation of Ulysses,
Andrew Hill,
Gil Scott Heron,
Matthew Bourne,
F. McDonald,
Procol Harum,
Arab on Radar,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Fuzztones,
MC5,
The Victims,
The Real Kids,
Faraquet,
CMW,
Excepter,
Mantronix,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Tres Demented,
Slave,
Buzzcocks,
The Young Rascals,
Chris Corsano,
Banda Bassotti,
Kenny Larkin,
Rufus Thomas,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Icehouse,
Fatback Band,
Joyce Sims,
Newcleus,
Alphaville,
James White and The Blacks,
Neu!,
Colin Newman,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Skaos,
Nirvana,
The Alarm Clocks,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Names,
Camouflage,
Eddi Front,
Robert Görl,
The Beau Brummels,
Scientists,
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.