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 Guatemala and from Mexico City.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 Echospace 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 Rapeman. All the underground hits.
All Bootsy's Rubber Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barclay James Harvest record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Main Source record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Shadows of Knight,
Moby Grape,
Deadbeat,
The Beau Brummels,
Neil Young,
Fluxion,
Sarah Menescal,
The Modern Lovers,
Bobby Byrd,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Steve Hackett,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Fall,
Letta Mbulu,
Crooked Eye,
The Flesh Eaters,
Lou Christie,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Country Joe & The Fish,
New York Dolls,
the Soft Cell,
Cymande,
The Tremeloes,
The Index,
Jawbox,
Sex Pistols,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Roy Ayers,
Aswad,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Little Man,
Drexciya,
Gang of Four,
Second Layer,
Radio Birdman,
Wally Richardson,
Theoretical Girls,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Ultra Naté,
Pussy Galore,
The Sonics,
KRS-One,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Electric Prunes,
Flash Fearless,
Cecil Taylor,
Kaleidoscope,
Sexual Harrassment,
Roxy Music,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Sound,
Leonard Cohen,
Terrestrial Tones,
Sun Ra,
Scrapy,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Yusef Lateef,
Minor Threat,
Judy Mowatt,
Bill Wells,
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.