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 Slovenia and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Golliwogs. All the underground hits.
All Y Pants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fatback Band 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a snare 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 güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The American Breed,
Juan Atkins,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Wally Richardson,
Crash Course in Science,
Accadde A,
The Shadows of Knight,
Carl Craig,
Man Eating Sloth,
Pulsallama,
Unwound,
Kerri Chandler,
Robert Hood,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Pretty Things,
Camouflage,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ronnie Foster,
X-101,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Symarip,
Marvin Gaye,
Curtis Mayfield,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Los Fastidios,
Joe Smooth,
The Flesh Eaters,
Josef K,
a-ha,
Rod Modell,
Roger Hodgson,
This Heat,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Ultra Naté,
Gregory Isaacs,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Lou Christie,
The Young Rascals,
Intrusion,
Connie Case,
Scion,
Aswad,
Shuggie Otis,
Echospace,
Public Enemy,
Joy Division,
Absolute Body Control,
Theoretical Girls,
Brothers Johnson,
Derrick Morgan,
Grauzone,
the Fania All-Stars,
Clear Light,
Young Marble Giants,
Television,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Radiohead,
The Index,
Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback.
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.