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 Ukraine and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Supertramp to the rap 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 Index. All the underground hits.
All Tears for Fears tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Accadde A record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a güiro 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 organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cabaret Voltaire,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Shadows of Knight,
Jeru the Damaja,
ABBA,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Kinks,
Audionom,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Fugs,
A Certain Ratio,
The Flesh Eaters,
Amazonics,
Harmonia,
Chris Corsano,
The Saints,
Rhythm & Sound,
Curtis Mayfield,
Mr. Review,
Saccharine Trust,
Soul II Soul,
This Heat,
The Misunderstood,
The Smoke,
Dead Boys,
Fugazi,
Lee Hazlewood,
Excepter,
The Doobie Brothers,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Khruangbin,
Jeff Lynne,
Harry Pussy,
the Germs,
Bobby Womack,
Rotary Connection,
New Age Steppers,
Deakin,
The Alarm Clocks,
Blancmange,
Barry Ungar,
Piero Umiliani,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Peter and Kerry,
Aaron Thompson,
Cecil Taylor,
Faust,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Robert Wyatt,
Quadrant,
Harpers Bizarre,
Panda Bear,
Johnny Osbourne,
Barclay James Harvest,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
F. McDonald,
The Remains,
Kayak,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Zeros,
Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band.
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.