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 Burundi and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the 808 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 48th St. Collective to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Liaisons Dangereuses. All the underground hits.
All Joy Division tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cure record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fad Gadget record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bush Tetras,
Traffic Nightmare,
Ultra Naté,
L. Decosne,
Eli Mardock,
Roger Hodgson,
The Fire Engines,
Jawbox,
Panda Bear,
Average White Band,
Marine Girls,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Doors,
Joensuu 1685,
Qualms,
Joey Negro,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Divine Comedy,
Royal Trux,
the Bar-Kays,
Nas,
Banda Bassotti,
Groovy Waters,
Zero Boys,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Crime,
Flamin' Groovies,
ABC,
Radiopuhelimet,
Masters at Work,
The J.B.'s,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Joe Smooth,
Gang of Four,
Neil Young,
Tomorrow,
Livin' Joy,
Electric Prunes,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Misunderstood,
Fela Kuti,
The Walker Brothers,
Soul II Soul,
Tropical Tobacco,
La Düsseldorf,
Harry Pussy,
Swell Maps,
The Smiths,
Donald Byrd,
The Gladiators,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Ultravox,
Easy Going,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Kaleidoscope,
Max Romeo,
Quadrant,
The Tremeloes,
10cc,
The Electric Prunes,
Sixth Finger,
Unrelated Segments,
John Foxx,
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.