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 Russia and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Paris.
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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Amon Düül II to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Henry Cow. All the underground hits.
All Sexual Harrassment tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Hill 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Organ record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nick Fraelich,
Japan,
The Durutti Column,
Black Pus,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Motions,
The Divine Comedy,
The Happenings,
Eric B and Rakim,
Lakeside,
Ice-T,
The Slits,
The Neon Judgement,
Lower 48,
Bill Wells,
Wolf Eyes,
Charles Mingus,
Rosa Yemen,
The Golliwogs,
The J.B.'s,
Magazine,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Soul II Soul,
Gang Starr,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Agent Orange,
Adolescents,
X-Ray Spex,
Albert Ayler,
Delon & Dalcan,
Kerri Chandler,
Josef K,
Jeff Mills,
Moss Icon,
Lou Christie,
Audionom,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Young Rascals,
Stiv Bators,
Model 500,
The American Breed,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
10cc,
Sexual Harrassment,
Scratch Acid,
Pantaleimon,
Underground Resistance,
Ornette Coleman,
One Last Wish,
X-102,
Reagan Youth,
Jimmy McGriff,
Erykah Badu,
Harpers Bizarre,
Surgeon,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
X-101,
Wings,
OOIOO,
Prince Buster,
Gregory Isaacs,
Graham Central Station,
kango's stein massive,
Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!.
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.